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i^f^UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

<'it'>\S 9—167 



AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS 



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AN ARTIST IN THE 
HIMALAYAS 

/ 

By a. d. Mccormick 



ILL US TRA TED BY VER 
loo ORIGINAL SKETCHES 
MADE ON THE JOURNEY 




NEW YORK : MACMILLAN & CO. 
MDCCCXCV 



11841 



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AU rights resented. 



PEEFACE 

TN this book, which certainly has no pre- 
-'- tensions to be hterature, an art by no 
means within my province, I have attempted 
to give an idea of the picturesque aspect ol 
the expedition rather than of the geographical 
portion. How admirably that was done by 
Sir William Conway is known now to all the 
world. But if our leader had attempted to 
tell everything, his book would have reached 
the proportions of a Biographical Dictionary 
or of the Encyclopaedia Britannica ; and in 
confining it to reasonable limits he may thus 
have left a chance for one of the members of 
his expedition to contribute a more personal 
narrative. 

The illustrations are merely reproductions 
from notes in my sketch book of any little 
incident or scene that may have struck me 
during the marches. 



CONTENTS 



CHAP. PAGE 

I. CHELSEA TO KARACHI ... ... ... 1 

II. KARACHI TO SRINAGAR ... ... 16 

III. THE ROAD TO GILGIT ... ... ... 49 

IV. BAGROT, DIRRAN, AND GARGO... ... 84 

V. HUNZA-NAGYR ... ... ... ... Ill 

VI. MIR AND HISPAR ... ... ... 132 

VII. HISPAR PASS TO ASKOLE... ... ... 154 

VIII. ASKOLiE TO THE GOLDEN THRONE ... 168 
IX. PIONEER PEAK TO ASKOLE ... ... 194 

X. ASKOLE TO SCARDU ... ... ... 221 

XI. SCARDU TO LEH ... ... ... 240 

XII. LEH TO SRINAGAR ... ... ... 265 

XIII. SRINAGAR ... ... . . ... 289 



LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS 

POETRAIT ... ... ... ... Frontispiece 

PAGE 

PORT SAID ... ... ... ... 1 

TEREFA ... ... ... ... ... 3 

LIGHTHOUSE. ENTRANCE TO TORT SAID ... 5 

IN THE SUEZ CANAL ... ... ... ... 8 

ON THE STEAMER ... ... ... 10 

ENTERING ADEN ... ... ... ... 12 

ADEN ... ... ... ... ... 14 

OFF PORT SAID ... ... ... ... 15 

AT KARACHI ... ... ... ... 16 

ON THE INDUS ... ... ... ... 18 

PARBIR ... ... ... ... ... 19 

GURKHAS ... ... ... ... ... 20 

A CLIMBING STUDY ... ... ... 22 

COOLIE AT TANDIANI ... ... ... ... 23 

GURKHA DANCING ... ... ... 27 

SERVANTS BRINGING SUPPER ... ... ... 29 

DEPARTURE OF JACK _ ... ... ... 81 

AT DOMED ... ... ... ... ... 32 

AN EKKA ... ... ... ... 35 

EVENING IN CHINAR BAGH ... ... ... 37 

BARRAMULA ... ... ... ... 38 

ix 



X LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 

PAGE 

ON THE JHELAM, SEINAGAE ... ... ... 39 

TOWING UP THE JHELAM ... ... ... 41 

ON THE DAL LAKE ... ... ... ... 44 

ON THE DAL LAKE ... ... ... 46 

OUR BOATMAN ... ... ... ... 47 

COOLIES AT BURZIL ... ... ' ... 49 

LANDING BAGGAGE AT BANDIPUR ... ... 50 

COOLIES AT SANARWAIN ... ... ... 52 

SEBVAN.TS' CAMP AT TRAGBAL ... ... ... 55 

COOLIES ... ... ... ... 57 

A COOLIE ... ... ... ... ... 58 

COOLIES AT BURZIL ... ... ... '60 

CAMP AT BURZIL ... ... ... ... 62 

servants' CAMP AT ASTOR ... ... 63 

COOLIES ... ... ... ... ... 64 

NATIVE WOMEN AT ASTOR ... ... ... 66 

HARCHO VILLAGE ... ... ... ... 67 

A COOLIE ... ... ... ... 70 

CAMP AT BAGROT ... ... ... ... 72 

SNAKE PASS ... ... ... ... 85 

SURVEYING ... ... ... ... ... 87 

BY THE CAMP FIRE, BAGROT ... ... 95 

INTERIOR OF NATIVE MILL, NOMAL ... ... 107 

MOSQUE ON THE ROAD TO NAGYR ... ... Ill 

ON THE TOP OF THE PASS TO NILT ... ... 113 

NATIVES WORKING IN THE FIELDS, NAGYR ... 115 

A NAGYR PRINCE ... ... ... ... 118 

NATIVES OF NAGYR ... ... ... 119' 

AT THE POLO GROUND ... ... ... 122 

WAZIER AND RAG AH OF NAGYR ... ... 127 



LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. xi 

PAGE 

NATIVES OF NAGYR ... ... ... ... 129 

BUILDING STONE MAN ... ... ... 132 

NAGYR COOLIE ... ... ... ... 134 

COOLIES ON THE GLACIER... ... ... 185 

A MEMBER OF THE EXPEDITION CROSSING A BRIDGE 139 

SHAH MURAT ... ... ... ... 140 

A BALTI COOLIE ... ... ... ... 142 

BUILDING HUTS ... ... ... ... 144 

PEAK ABOVE THE HISPAR PASS... ... ... 146 

COOLIES ON THE GLACIER... ... ... 149 

HISPAR COOLIE ... ... ... ... 150 

BUILDING A STONE MAN ... ... . . 154 

COOLIE CARRYING WATER ... ... ... 161 

THE LAMBADHAR OF ASKOLE SPINNING ... 165 

BALTI COOLIES ON BALTORO GLACIER ... ... 170 

BALTI COOLIES ... ... ... ... 173 

BALTI COOLIES MENDING PABUS ... ... 176 

THE MITRE PEAK, BALTORO GLACIER ... 179 

GURKHAS BUILDING HUT ... ... ... 181 

BALTI COOLIES ... ... ... 183 

BALTI COOLIES ... ... ... ... 185 

A BALTI COOLIE ... ... ... ... 187 

A CRY TO ALLAH ... ... ... ... 189 

GURKHAS ... ... ... ... 195 

BALTI TYPES ... ... ... ... 197 

PEAK ABOVE THRONE GLACIER ... ... 199 

DESCENT FROM PIONEER PEAK ... ... ... 204 

PREPARING TO START ... ... ... 207 

REPAIRING A KILTA ... ... ... ... 213 

HOUSES AT ASKOLE ... ... ... 219 



xii LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 

PAGE 

KEPAIRING A KILTA ... ... ... ... 220 

AT SCARDU ... ... ... ... 223 

A CLIMBING STUDY ... ... ... ... 226 

THRESHING IN THE SHIGAR VALLEY... ... 229 

AT SCORA ... ... ... ... ... 239 

AT TOLTI ... ... ... ... 240 

KASHMIR SEPOYS ... ... ... ... 245 

RAHIM ALI ... ... ... ... 247 

LAMA-YURU ... ... ... ... ... 258 

LADAKHI NOTES ... ... ... ... 262 

AT LAMA-YURU ... ... ... ... 263 

LEH BAZAAR c. ... ... ... 265 

LADAKHI TEMPLE ... ... ... ... 268 

YARKAND MERCHANTS ON THE ROAD... ... 271 

AT LAMA-YURU ... ... ... ... 273 

AT KARGIL ... ... ... ... 276 

AT KARGIL ... ... ... ... ... 278 

A LADAKHI ... ... ... ... 280 

A LADAKHI ... ... ... ... ... 282 

A LADAKHI ... ... ... ... 286 

WOMEN POUNDING GRAIN ... ... ... 291 

ON THE JHELAM, SRINAGAR ... ... 293 

OUR BOATS IN THE CHINAR BAGH ... ... 295 



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AN AKTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

CHAPTER T. 

CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 



EARLY in the winter of 1891, Jack Roude- 
bush and I were sitting in my Chelsea 
studio with two other friends discussing not 
a Httle gloomily the difficulties of making a 
living at Art. We were by no means sure that 
our lack of success was not our own fault, and 
one of us had something to say about the 
immorality of big men doing no more with 
their strength than handle a brush when there 
was real work to be done in the world which 
was not purely decorative, though it might 
lead to decorations. 




SUinfoj-da deotf} EstahUaltmaU. /.on. 



2 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

We came to the conclusion that if things 
did not so improve as to signify to us that we 
were really wanted, we would try farming or 
cattle herding, or anything calculated to 
give some starved faculties a chance. One of 
my friends having been born in Africa, which 
he left when he was two years old, declared 
himself an authority on the prospects open to 
young men in that country, and suggested we 
should try it. 

A month later we bade him farewell in the 
East India Docks, for he was off to the Cape 
for at least six months ; and only a fortnight 
later my other friend, who was an architect 
and surveyor, greeted me with the news that 
he had obtained a government appointment 
on the West Coast of Africa, His task was 
to be surveying and designing buildings in a 
sunburnt, desolate land, the haunt of many 
fevers. But he was glad all the same, and 
rejoiced at getting away to something, after 
living on sucking his artistic thumbs in a 
Chelsea by-street. 

And then Jack and I were left to wonder 
if we were ever going to get our chance of 
malaria and wild travel and strange adventure 
in the unknown. 

For what I knew was bounded on the east 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 3 

by London, and on the west by Belfast. I 
pined for something better than reading 
stories of places and things. Jack, who knew 
many places and phases of life, pined only for 
something new. But our time was coming. 

One day Jack came in big with exciting 
news. His friend Mr. Conway (now Sir 
William M. Conway) was to lead a surveying 
and climbing expedition through the Hima- 



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lay as, and through parts of it which meant 
real original exploration. He thought of 
taking an artist with him, and so, said Jack, 
it was just possible that he might select me. 
He had seen some work of mine which had 
pleased him. 

If Art had led so far it had done something, 
I began to see some use in it, even beyond 
boiling pots and painting pictures which the 



4 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

world unanimousl}^ refused to buy or even to 
look at. 

But it was ouly a chance after all, until 
one evening when my friend Jack came to 
me in a state of radiant happiness, bringing 
Conway with him. 

" Here," said he, " is Conway; he wants to* 
speak to you." 

When he asked me if I should like to go 
to the Himalayas to sketch, I was nearly 
replying by asking him if a duck would swim, 
but restrained my enthusiasm, and merely re- 
marked weakly that I should like it very much. 

Conwaj^ said it was possible he might take 
me, and pumped me as to my views of paint- 
ing mountains ; for most artists certainly 
manage to make molehills of them, and he 
wanted them to look like real hills. 

My experience of mountains was not at 
that time great, in fact, I thiuk the Mourne 
Mountains in County Down were the nearest 
to an apology for a mountain which I had 
seen, but I managed to make him believe that 
if there was any man who could and would 
do the trick loftily, I was that man. 

After a few days of fevered expectation 
I had a telegram saying, " I have airanged 
for you to go to Himalayas. Conway." 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 5 

But what of Jack ? He declined to be left 
out in the cold. Of the four who had dis- 
cussed misery and Art, one was at the Cape, 
another at Lagos, and the third was booked 
for the Karakoram Mountains. It was ob- 
viously impossible that the fourth should stay 
in England, and study life coldly in marble, 
or make counterfeit presentments of indiffer- 
ent people in common clay. 

Perhaps it was his indignation that heated 
him over much and left 
him a victim to the 
draughts of my studio, 
but he immediately had - 
influenza and was 
threatened with con- 
gestion of the lungs, 
and had to be trans- 
ferred to a nursing hospital under the care 
of my friend, Dr. Tom Robinson. It was 
some time before I discovered the little plan 
he had concocted, but when I found him 
egging on the doctor to prescribe a sea voyage 
for him, I began to have some suspicions ; 
these were converted into amused certainty 
when he gloomily suggested that he was a 
likely subject for consumption, and that from 
what he had heard of Davos and other 




6 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

mountain stations, a high altitude was the 
very thing to prevent any evil results follow- 
ing his illness. When the doctor agreed that 
there was something in this view, Jack coolly 
suggested the Himalayas as a new place to 
test modern theories in, and asked whether 
it would be too far. And of course the end 
of it was that Jack worked his point, and 
was admitted to our adventurous band. He 
made a good recovery at once, and only 
coughed badly when any one threw doubts 
on his ability to climb or to stand the hard- 
ships which are alv/ays to be looked for on 
original explorations. 

So now the numbers of the expedition were 
full up. It was composed of Conway ; Lieu- 
tenant the Honourable C. G. Bruce, of the 
1st Battalion 5th Gurkhas ; Zurbriggen, a 
well-known Swiss guide from Macugnaga ; 
Colonel Lloyd-Dicken — who only went with 
us to Gilgit ; 0. Eckenstein ; Jack Eoudebush, 
and myself. And taking us all round, with 
very few exceptions, I think we were a hard 
and fit crowd to do almost anything. 

The world knows now all about our leader ; 
but it is a curious thing that a man, who up 
to that time had been principally known as a 
writer on Art, should almost suddenly blossom 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 7 

into a man of action, and a -born leader of 
men. Of late, people who know very little 
have called him " a man of one book." In 
remembering his travels they have forgotten 
his " Wood-cutters of the Netherlands," a 
most learned and valuable contribution to 
the history of engraving, to say nothing of 
other equally important works.* But to 
those who went with him into the Hima- 
layas he certainly stands more as the man 
of deeds than the man of words. His en- 
durance of toil, his tact in the management 
of many races of men, his unfailing readiness 
of resource, and his absolute foresight, mark 
him as one among a thousand. That he made 
the expedition a success we all know, but 
few know the difficulties with which he 
contended, nor the happy, bright temper with 
which he combated them. 

And to choose a man like Bruce, of the 
Gurkhas, as one of the expedition, showed 
his knowledge of men. For Bruce, too, had 
the disposition which is full of fight and 

* A history of Flemish Art, a work on the Literary 
Eemains of Albert Drurer, a study of Eeynolds and 
Gainsborough, and " The Dawn of Art," which deals 
with pre-historic Art, and the Arts of Chaldffia, Assyria, 
Egypt, and other early civilisations. 



8 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

courage, with the power and weight that 
can absohitely crush obstacles. He and his 
Gurkhas were an infinite help to us. And 
while England has men like him to lead, 
and those he commands to follow, she may 
sit serene on the sunny side of India's 
northern boundary. 

But Bruce was not with us all the time, 
while Zurbriggen never left us. Though 



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Conway had not known him before, there is 
little doubt that if he were to lead another 
difficult expedition, it would be a great dis- 
appointment to him if he were unable to 
have the gallant and fiery but skilfal Swiss, 
who was capable of boiling over like a geyser, 
and of subsiding afterwards in a most placid 
pool. Mountains to him existed to be 
climbed; while he climbed he sang or 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 9 

jodelled. And he had his ambitions of book- 
making. He made sketches or notes all the 
time, and often when he had outpaced us on 
a difficult piece of road, he would sit down 
and make new notes while we toiled up 
the slopes behind him. 

Bruce had gone on to India before us, as 
his leave was up, and Colonel Dicken also ; 
we were to meet both of them at Abbot- 
tabad. The rest of us got to know each 
other well before we reached India ; and 
as I heard the yarns of those who had done 
the strenuous things I wished to do, I often 
had moments when I feared that I should 
not reach the standard of excellence to which 
they had attaineJ. But I meant doing my 
best, and so did Jack. 

The voyage out was a revelation to me 
and a fit preface to something stranger 
still. 

We went out on a cargo steamer — not in 
one of the big passenger boats — and having 
very few fellow travellers, we were much 
freer than we should otherwise have been. 
The comparative slowness of our passage 
was nothing to me when everything was of 
such infinite interest. I even enjoyed the 
pitch and toss of a good rough time in 



10 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the Bay of Biscay; and fighting our way 
through the Straits of Gibraltar with a 
strong easterly gale blowing in our teeth 
gave me plenty of time to make notes of 
Terefa and the Eock, for with wind and 
current against her the Ocampo made no 
very rapid headway. 

But it was not till we reached Port Said 
that the real interest of the passage com- 
menced ; for trivial as it seemed afterwards 




when I had known the glory of India and 
the real Orient, it is at any rate the Gate 
of the East. One sees the motley of two 
contending civilizations in that city of 
roughs and outcasts ; and there are camels 
in the streets ; then the thousand-time- 
described scene of the demon-like coolies 
loading the coal, yelling and surging and 
moaning strange cries, as they run up and 
down the gang planks, caught hold of me. 
I watched them in the cloud of dust, and 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 11 

as I choked I dreamed, and the Old World 
and the East opened out to me. 

Jack and I went ashore with the doctor 
of the ship, who told us he knew all about 
the place. I daresay he knew something 
of it, but not all, for when our curiosity 
led us from one thing to another until we 
seemed near disaster, I don't think he fancied 
himself then. For we got by the merest 
chance into some kind of a low den in which 
there were strange ruffians and dancing girls, 
and all sorts of devilry, and on our attempting 
to crush out through them in the darkness, 
I found myself in a passage leading into a 
street, but barred by an iron grating. I 
was the only one caught, for the rest were 
outside, and the crowd round me were by 
no means calculated to cheer me. I seized 
hold of one and threatened to shoot him if 
I wasn't let out. As my friends on the 
other side of the bars were threatening them 
with the police, they finally let me go, and 
I decided on having a better guide next 
time I went exploring the purlieus of an 
Eastern town. 

Then came the Suez Canal, and the strange 
aspect of the deserts with their herds of 
camels. By day we dreamed under the 



12 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

awning. But I wrote to my two friends in 
Africa, telling where I was and whither I 
was going ; I felt quite sorry for them. 
They were staying in such common and 
common-place parts of the world, while I 
was drifting through enchantment to some- 
thing stranger still. 

But night in the Canal is the most wonder- 
ful : when one ties up to let another boat 




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pass, one sees at first its white eye, the 
big search-light, that grows and grows and 
turns the sand into piles of drifting snow; 
then it shoots over and past, and the gloomy 
ship glides by with its unknown folk who 
cheer. And then on again through the lakes, 
by day shallow and green, but at night dark 
waters illuminated with lighted buoys, till 
they look like a Chinese garden. 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 13 

Then came Suez, with the old town in 
the distance, and the neat white buildings 
of the Canal officials round the Canal's mouth 
into the Ked Sea ; the seas are bright green, 
and the cliffs burn bright red, and are re- 
flected redly. But this I did not see till 
my return. 

In the dull, hot sea we only wearied for 
India. We forgot our longings for a time 
in Aden, for that was the Orient without 
a doubt. It was not the dirty swirl of two 
opposing civilisations as at Port Said. 

We saw the Camel Market, and rubbed 
shoulders with twenty races, and drank thick 
coffee in windowless coffee divans, while 
outside the sun was glowing like molten 
steel. It is a glaring, white-hot hell, and the 
buildings in the open almost blind one with 
the reflected light. The clothes the people 
wear are extreme in tint, they shine in 
primary colours ; but many are half naked, 
as we wished to be before our time was 
done. 

Then we went on board and watched the 
boys swim or dive as if they were fish and 
in their native element. 

All this time, both ashore and at sea, I 
was perpetually sketching and painting, try- 



14 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

ing to screw my tones up to the light and 
colour : and everything I did annoyed and 
disgusted me, my brightest work looked 
black; pure vermilion seemed as if it was 
fit to paint a water-can with, but it was no 
use to an artist, and as to pure ultramarine, 
the sea knocked it out of time clean and 
for ever. 

So working, dreaming, and playing loo. 













we went on eastward through the Arabian 
Sea and across the mouth of the Persian 
Gulf. There for the first time I saw the 
phosphorescence of the sea. The steamer 
cut her way through hollow golden green 
fire and strange green bronze, and the bow 
waves, going off into the darkness, looked 
like flaming serpents lazily rolling in dark 
oil. Sometimes we lay on deck, and before 



CHELSEA TO KAEACHI. 15 

sleeping watched the blood-red moon sink 
below the horizon. Like the sinking sun 
it touched the sea and flattened its orb, and 
then it bit into the water, and as it gradually 
went under its wake glittered, and glittering 
died, until its upper limb alone remained 
like a strange star that was suddenly extin- 
guished. 

So we came to Karachi and were at last 
in India. 

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CHAPTEE II. 



KARACHI TO SEINAGAE. 



KARACHI is now to me only a big burning 
blot of colour — sashes, turbans, and fierce 
sunlight. But there is no glamour of any 
kind about the modern built town. It is ugly 
and vilely dusty, and most of the streets are 
named after a Ma^ckintosh, or some other 
Scotchman ; it seemed as if Scotland owned 
or built it. But I hadn't much of it to 
endure, for we left by the 10 p.m. train, and 
ran off into moonlit plains of enchantment, 
mystery, and wonder. I could not wake 
myself out of the dream — for I was in a 
dream surely — I might pinch myself if I 
liked, but the vision would not pass. And so 
we ran on through the night. 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 17 

At Badau we stopped for breakfast. And 
much of the wonder was gone from me. For 
instead of the cool moonlight and low tones, 
which were suggestive only, came the brutal 
realism of direct sunlight in a tired, weary 
landscape, where all the trees and shrubs 
were thick with dust. As we stopped at each 
station, from the carriages which held natives 
protruded a hundred lean, bare, uncanny arms 
and hands, each with a little brass pot, to be 
filled from the water-skin of the bhesti, who 
yelled " Pawnee ! Paw-nee ! " till his throat 
must have been dry enough to need his whole 
supply. 

But as we ran on and came nearer the Indus 
the landscape began to look greener and 
fresher and more promising. And when we 
crossed the great river we had one beautiful 
bit of scenery. For on an island, round which 
the broad stream swept, stood a fort and some 
rajah's palace, and by it were curious boats 
which dark-skinned natives were loading. As 
I looked down through the lattice-work of the 
bridge, I again seemed to think that nothing 
was real and that I dreamt once more. 

After another night in the train we were in 
Lahore, and in real India at last. We took a 
carriage and drove to the Fort. A very stolid 

3 



18 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

and excessively English Tommy Atkins showed 
US over the beautiful old palace, with its 
inlaid and perforated marble screens, an^ its 
walls covered with myriad strange decorations. 
On the roof we had a grand view of the great 
mosque with its walled courtyard, the square- 
roofed houses of the town that vibrated in 
the intense heat, and of the cool, green, 
distant landscape with its trees. 

We went through the town, and it was 
coloured Pandemonium. Once we caught 







=^=--=^ 



sight of some young natives playing cricket, 
but that familiar thing was swallowed up in a 
moment by a strange blaze of colour that 
made my head fairly reel with its intensity. 
The crowded natives, through whom our 
driver forced his way, cursed him pictur- 
esquely, but salaamed humbly to bis fares ; 
and the din of their jabbering was most 
infernal and deafening. To come to the 
railway station was like leaving some gigantic 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 19 

show. And now I knew the East had never 
been painted. And I doubted greatly if it 
ever would be. 

Conway and Jack decided to stay the night 
in Lahore, but Zurbriggen, Eckenstein, and I 
went on to Hassan Abdal. When we reached 
it at noon next day we found tongas and 
ekkas waiting for us, and we dashed off over 
well-kept roads and past villages with all 
their native life open t,o view, dancing der- 
vishes here, and women spinning there, and 
amid general salaams came to Abbottabad, 
to find Bruce and Dicken expecting us. 

I slept, and was awakened by jackals. 
They made me jump at first. But that was 
nothing, and had to be put up with in India. 
I could only think of the time and the place 
and the work to be done when Conway came 
next day. 

As I have said, or implied, I had never seen 
a snow mountain. And in- 
deed I had never till this trip 
been in any country outside 
the limits of the British Isles. 
So suddenly to find myself in 
the neighbourhood of the 
highest mountains in the world was, in spite 
of all my mental preparation for them, an 




20 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

exceedingly strange experience to me. For 
now, when the voyage was over and the 
railway journey done, it seemed to me that 
all the intermediate steps were wiped out. I 
forgot the seas and skies of the voyage ; and 
the quick run through the plains and the 
foothills almost to the heart of the first chain 
of the Himalayas was no more than a dream. 
I had come at one step into a land of 
visions. 

V /Hi 




This feeling of strangeness never quite left 
me through all the journey, for no sooner did 
I become accustomed to the work and the 
constant risks than I had to face something 
newer and something greater still, which 
renewed a feeling in me which resembled fear, 
and was perhaps rather wonder. But even in 
all the toil and danger, the glory of the 
unknown gave me many compensations. 



KAEACHI TO SRINAGAR. 21 

After our arrival in Abbottabad, we found 
that instead of leaving at once as we had 
planned, we had to wait nearly three weeks for 
our luggage. But the officers of the garrison 
were more than hospitable, and made our 
visit so pleasant, that only our work and the 
desire we had to go on and upward could have 
drawn us away. 

My first attempt at climbing was a rank 
failure, though the hill was only 4,000 feet 
high, and easy grass slope at that ; yet with a 
few days' practice I began to feel somewhat 
firmer on my legs, and could get along fairly 
well. In this country it is never any trouble 
taking sketching materials, for one can order 
any loafing native who is hanging about to 
carry them for two or three pice^ and every 
ounce of weight tells if one is not used to 
climbing. This, at least, made things easier 
for me. 

Bruce had arranged a trip to Tandiani — a 
summer resort of the Europeans of Abbotta- 
bad — and a beat for game about the hills there 
next day. All the morning active prepara- 
tions were going on ; laughing Gurkhas here, 
there, and everywhere, bundling up food and 
blankets, and loading mules with the spirits 
of a lot of schoolboys off for a holiday. At 



22 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



last all were ready — thirteen Gurkhas in the 
glory of white, lemon, purple, and pink 
turbans, seven mules, and six coolies, making 
a most imposing expedition. Bruce, Jack, 






and I, with Zurbriggen, left at noon, and as 
the climb was nothing but an afternoon's run 
to the men of the place, who, in fa,ct, think 
nothing of going there and back in a day, 



f; 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 23 

Bruce thought we should he at the top hy 
half-past four at least. It was a bad calcula- 
tion, as he found out later, with two such 
green ones as Jack and I. 

The first half of the way was pleasant, 
though very hot, and the unusual character of 
the scenery and of the natives kept my mind 
from dwelling on the fatigue that was growing 
upon me. The newness of 
it all was delightful. There 
were smiling and salaam- 
ing natives working on the 
road or in their patches of 
field, and Bruce's saluta- 
tion of " Salaam Gi " made 
them all grin as if they 
were delighted to see us. 
Parbir, who had been with 
Bruce in England, was try- 
ing to sing ' ' Two Lovely Black Byes, ' ' while his 
companions sang and shouted and larked 
about, as if they were on Plumstead Marshes 
instead of a road as steep as a ladder. There 
were many rests for us by the way, for every 
brook and waterfall was an excuse, and the 
much- sought -after tobacco was given with 
unsparing hand to fill the Gurkhas' cJielum — 
which they suck through a wet rag, and hand 




24 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

round to each other — to raake the delay a 
httle longer. When about half-way up, and 
after a longer rest than usual below what 
looked an impossible pine-covered hill, Bruce 
said we must make haste or we should be 
benighted, and to be out on the mountain 
without shelter was more than any of us 
could stand. Jack and I said we were ready, 
but when the boys coolly started up this 
impossible slope, it was with sinking hearts 
that we looked at each other and began to 
climb ; and worst of all was the fact that it 
was fun to everybody else. Our pace grew 
slower and slower ; from twenty yards at a 
time it came to ten, and then to five, to two 
and one, and then a dead stop. Jack and I 
were done. Bruce picked me up on his broad 
back for a yard or two, but I was too much 
for him, and he put me down. After resting 
for a few minutes, I suddenly and unaccount- 
ably felt all right. Perhaps it was the sight 
of Jack on a Gurkha, for it would have made 
a goat laugh to see a soldier about four feet 
nothing climbing on hands and knees with a 
six 'foot three man on his back, and one 
Gurkha ready to take the other's place, and 
all as cheerful as crickets. But night was 
coming on fast, and Jack having actually 



KAEACHI TO SRINAGAE. 25 

become unconscious, the situation was serious, 
for the winter snow, not yet melted, had 
obliterated the path. Very soon night was 
upon us, and the dark gloom of the thick 
pine forest, lit with a dim light from the 
snow, the dark forms of the Gurkhas in 
advance looking for the way, the slow 
march with our heavy burden, the bitter 
cold, and the silence, for none spoke, made 
a most impressive scene. At last a break 
in the trees disclosed the hut, and soon 
we were all round a roaring fire, and Jack, 
revived with the heat and soup (got ready by 
Bruce' s bearer, Rahim Ali, who had arrived 
with the mules hours before by the regular 
mule-road), was soon sitting up, vowing to 
live and die for the Gurkhas. And well they 
deserved all praise, for, tired as they must 
have been, they were running about making 
everything as comfortable for us as they 
possibly could. 

The next morning the great event of the 
trip was to come off. Bruce started with the 
Gurkhas to beat the hills round a certain 
point at which we were to wait with the 
rifles ; bear and all other sorts of game were 
looked for. After an interminable wade 
through soft snow and pine woods, we came 



26 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

to the point we were to stay at and sat down. 
Not a sound broke the stilhiess, and I almost 
forgot the hunting. Fortunately I had 
brought out my sketching materials, and 
time and game were forgotten in the joy 
the prospect gave me. For there were hills 
and valleys covered with pines far down 
below me, black in the gloom of the shadows 
climbing up and up into the sunlight, and 
then against the hot blue sky above, where 
some leafless giants burnt and bare spread 
out their skeleton arms, I caught glimpses of 
far-off snowy peaks glistening in the sunlight. 
But the sun began to burn with its fiercest 
heat, and the longing for a drop to drink 
made me quit my place and seek for the 
little stream I heard rippling far below. 
By this time Jack and Zurbriggen had gone 
ofi to look for Bruce and the Gurkhas, no 
sign or sound of whom we had heard since 
we parted in the morning, and as for the 
bears and other beasts, they were all dead 
or gone, or there had been none. I had 
a coolie with me carrying my traps, but 
asking him for information in my best Hindu- 
stani as to their whereabouts, received only 
his constant answer of ^'Atcha, Sahib,'' which 
is equivalent to " Very well, sir," and threw 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 27 

no new light on the situation. But firing a 
shot from the rifle brought a cheery cry from 
Jack and Zurbriggen, who were near at hand. 
We packed up and made our way back to the 
bangla, to find that Bruce and four Gurkhas 
had returned to Abbottabad, so we settled 
down to a lively evening with the remaining 
men. Two goats had been purchased and pre- 
sented to them by Jack as a slight return for 





their services the day before, and of course we 
must see them killed in true Gurkha fashion 
— i.e., beheaded with a kookri at one cut. 
The man deputed to show ofl took his stand 
beside the beast, facing the same way, while 
another held the animal's head level. Taking 
a good aim, the swing of his arm brought 
the knife down through the neck and past 



28 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the front of the body, and the goat's head 
was left in the hands of the man who held 
it. The penalty for missmg the stroke, or 
not cuttmg the neck through at one cut, is 
for the next man to finish it and rub the 
bleeding head over the face or whatever part 
he can get at of the one who fails ; but 
fortunately the executioner was a practised 
hand. The body and head were then thrown 
on the bonfire, just as they were and without 
any dressing. 

The whole scene was wild and savage in 
the extreme, for our great blazing fire of 
pine logs ligbted up the figures of these 
wild devils as they shouted and sang, their 
long shadows ran out monstrously on the 
snow slopes, and the black night above and 
below us was cut into as by swords of silver 
where the pine trunks caught the fire's light. 
After this savage feed, we all gathered into 
the sleeping hut of the boys, which was a 
rudely built shed of timbers placed angle- 
wise on the ground, with the triangular 
ends boarded up. Here a regular Gurkha 
smoking concert was started, and one sang 
while another danced with his head in the 
low angle of the roof, and all sat round 
crouched under the sloping timbers, clapping 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 



29 



their hands m time and yelhng with laughter 
at some more suggestive posturing than 









..-. \ 



■^^fj 



,t_/V«J 



/ 



K<^*- 



s a 
/ I 













— *"C^ 



W:^ i ^_ l%V/ # - 



t^v'C. 4 









7-\ 



another on the part of the dancer which 
tickled their fancy. I am afraid the song, 



30 AN x\ETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

if we conld have understood the words, would 
have been unfit for pubhcation, and the 
singing was absohitely tuneless, being only a 
long monotonous chant which the regular 
hand-clapping made in some way harmonious. 
But this did not last long, for we were all 
dead beat, and soon turned in. 

I had noticed in the grey of the morning 
how beautiful were the silver tones of the 
snow-covered mountains far off and near, and 
so I determined to make an early start and 
sketch. But I had not counted on the 
morning cold, and before I began I found 
the water frozen in my cup, and my brush 
an icicle. I had to send my coolie for a lot 
of newspapers I had seen lying in a corner of 
the bangla, and thus managed to keep up heat 
enough to finish my sketch. This was my 
first experience of some of the difficulties I 
might expect when I got into the snows and 
ice of the Karakorams. While I had been out, 
active hands had packed up and loaded the 
mules, so that when I came in all were ready 
to start back to Abbottabad. Nine Gurkhas, 
seven mules and seven coolies, and Bruce's 
bearer, formed the native contingent of our 
party, while Jack and I with Zurbriggen 
formed the European, and we felt mighty 



KAKACHI TO SEINAGAE. 31 

big with such a retinue, for the going down 
was very much easier than coming up, and. 
left us breath to consider our importance. 
We were all happy, and the Gurkhas espe- 
cially so, for in the enjoyment of it at the 
half-way bangla they began beheading the 
fowls in the yard, to the despair of the 
hliansamah in charge. We paid the damage 
and left the boys to their cooking and went 
on, knowing that they would soon catch us 




up. It turned out one of the hottest days 
we had experienced, and we wished ourselves 
up at the snow again. Ja<}k had a slight 
touch of the sun, so we placed him on one 
of the mules, while Zurbriggen and I, with 
six Gurkhas, started off under the leadership 
of Parbir, to find a short cut home. The 
young devil led us into a native town, right 
down through the bazaar. The natives flew 
hither and thither, as if an enemy had come 



32 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

amongst them, and indeed it looked like it ; 
for with their sticks they knocked everything 
over, ran after every girl they saw, and tried 
to cut the heads off the fowls and birds in the 
street. But soon we reached the long, dust- 
covered, white-hot roads, and, beginning to 
feel the effects of the heat, we settled down 
in that steady, determined-to-get-there way. 






, I 'm^' ^^1 ^' '-' ^ - 




when each goes at his own pace, caring not 
whether his companion is behind or in front, 
which one sees after a long day's tramp. 

At last we came to the long, tree-shaded 
road into the village, and back to comfort, 
bath, and beer. But it was the Holi festival 
of the Hindus, and all the boys were making 
a night of it. Guns firing, tom-toms beating, 
and jackals yowling, might have prevented 



KARACHI TO SRINAGAE. 33 

some from sleeping, but the day and the 
usual exertions overcame such obstacles and 
we snored most peacefully. 

I had several trips in and about Abbottabad 
with Bruce and the Gurkhas, sleeping in the 
open under the stars. We had then many 
midnight feasts of slaughtered sheep, each 
man toasting his own chop around the camp 
fires, while Gurkhas told their stories, and 
Bruce translated. Each hour of our stay 
here had its duties, and each duty was a 
pleasure and a training for what lay before 
us. We did rock climbing under Zurbriggen, 
hill climbing with the Gurkhas, and I sketched 
always, though the English landscape still 
held me in its mannerism, and I was not yet 
able to put on paper anything of the size 
and grandeur of the scenery. But living 
amongst the people, one soon caught their 
characteristics, and the little differences that 
separated one caste and religion from an- 
other. 

Jack was the first to be off north, for he 
and Colonel Dicken had arranged for a week's 
shooting in the Lolab valley ; so on the night 
of March 17th, by the light of lanterns held 
by ghost- like attendants, he got his long legs 

4 



34 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

packed in the cage-like aiTangement of a 
vehicle called an ehha, and started with all 
our good wishes for his hunting. 

A farewell dinner by the officers of the 
garrison, an early morning with Colonel 
G-aselee and his Gurkhas, to see them work 
in the hills company firing, a few days more 
of sketching and packing, and we also were 
off to our wanderings in a new world, amongst 
a new people. 

March 28th was the day on which we had 
all preparations completed for our start to 
the higher regions. It was picturesque to 
watch the loading of the regimental transport 
mules with provisions and kit for the coun- 
tries where no house would shelter us, and 
no stores provide us with food. A detach- 
ment of Gurkhas was told off to guard the 
baggage, which was loaded up in Bruce's 
compound with all the attendant excitement 
of the Oriental. Then came the farewell and 
good wishes of our kind hosts. The carriage 
of ourselves was to be by the native hansom 
of the country. How shall I describe it ? 
Look, then, at this sketch of it. 

Nothing more uncomfortable or insecure 
could be imagined by the most ingenious in- 
ventor, for it is only to be described as a 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 



35 



parrot cage mounted on a coster's barrow with 
gig wheels, with everything tied with rotten 
string, from the harness on the horse's back 
to the hoop and hub of the wheels. Uncom- 
fortable is not the word, it is absolute 
misery to any one, not a native, compelled 
to use such a conveyance, and we had four 
days of it in front of us. The first evening, 
through the exceeding great number of break- 







downs and the ignorance of my driver, I 
arrived three hours after the others, but in time 
to make a sketch of a most curious lovely 
sunset effect caused by a sandstorm driven 
up from the plains. Our next day's drive 
carried us up and over a spur of the moun- 
tains, by a road zig-zagging through wonderful 
pine forests, from the top of which we had 
glorious views of wooded valley and snow- 
clad peaks, down to Grahari Habibulla, from 



36 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

which the rest of the day's march had to be 
contmued on foot. Coohes were ready and 
waiting, and when all the baggage was trans- 
ferred to their broad backs, we started off for 
our first march. Mounting the crest of the 
hills that surround the valley of Domel, we 
had one lovely view of the meeting of the 
Jhelam and Kishanganga, with their thin 
winter flow of silver veining the grey-blue face 
of the summer torrent's bed, and then down 
through barren, water-worn gullies of con- 
glomerite, across a good English-made sus- 
pension bridge to the Dak Bangla of Domel, 
and we had entered Kashmir. I had heard 
and read of the beauties of the land, so when 
next morning's sun broke in upon me, bright 
visions rose before my eyes of colour and 
beauty, an artist's Paradise. But my enjoy- 
ment was disturbed by the prosaic realities 
of lazy drivers, on whom any amount of good 
sound English seemed to have no effect. 
Even with the aid of a stick, we did not get 
started till half-past ten, and the sun had 
begun to burn out all other thoughts but 
those of keeping cool. My driver had got 
lost, in some argument with the toll collector 
at the bridge, to all memory of sahibs and 
ekkas, so takiug the beast in charge myself, 







:5|)!i|4i7SSiiiKS;:; 









M 
'iiii 






^^i^^gpj;,; 







38 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

I started of! without him. This ekka was 
something new ; the row the Indian '' shan- 
drydan " made was not enough for the Kash- 
miri, but he must let in six sets of cymbals 
round his coster-barrow arrangement, and 
the noise was infernal. I did not know what 
made it for some time, and thought I had 
got hold of a tinker's machine. The owner 
caught me up, having obtained a lift in 



I 










JVC -- 



'■JM\ "—- ^-^-ystf 



another driver's vehicle, and he got what 
he expected. 

Our road, cut along the slope of the hills 
that bounded the valley of the Jhelam, led 
us into new scenery, where the colour of the 
earth and the hill-sides, a reddish purple, and 
the magnificent greens of the foliage, broken 
here and there by a blaze of orange and 
purple blossom, made a scheme of colour 
which continually changed with every wind 



40 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

in the valley. And away up in the hot grey 
sky rose the silver crest of some snowy 
peak. 

Stopping the night at Chakoti, we started 
off early in the cool of the morning, deter- 
mined to get to the boats at Barramula and 
the calm and peace of the river that evening, 
for of noise and dust we had had enough. 
The day was enlivened by the overturning 
of Zurbriggen's ekka, fortunately without any 
serious damage, and by Eahim All's manner 
of purchasing fowls and other articles of food 
from the Bunia at Eampur. He did business 
by smacking his face and giving him the price 
he thought enough, the Bunia taking the 
money and the smacking, and seeming more 
hurt at losing the bargaining than at the 
beating. 

After leaving here we entered the vale 
of Kashmir, where nature in all her loveliness 
opened the doors of the " Garden of the 
World," and after the everlasting jolting of 
the most infernal ekka, our tired senses were 
refreshed with beauty undreamed of or 
imagined. I have but a hazy recollection 
of the arrival at Barramula, where our road 
journey ended, and we took boat ; but im- 
pressionist sketches of flyiug draperies and 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAR. 41 

grey roads, tall poplars and still water, liquid 



I-: 



^^ 



^ 










'K 



and refreshing in the grey of evening, float 



42 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

through my brain, and with them a discord 
of voices clamouring for the sahib to take 
"My boat," "My boat best. Sahib," "See my 
chits," "All big sahibs take my boat, Sahib," 
till one voice above the rest shouts, " Bruce 
Sahib always take my boat," decided us to 
take him and his brother. We had the two 
boats moored higher up the river, away from 
the chatter of boatmen and their wives and 
children, and the everlasting squabbling, in 
order to get a quiet night's sleep. 

Tbe change from the last four days' bone- 
shaking to gliding along the still water 
between the low grey banks was something- 
indescribable. • The vale extended in almost 
unbroken flatness to the foot of the moun- 
tains, which rose up on either hand into the 
clear morning sky. Sitting in the front of 
the boat, under the grass mat awning, we 
had the boatman and his daughter towing 
upon the bank for life in the foreground, 
with sometimes a village of picturesque 
houses, beautifully dilapidated and drunken 
looking, and very etchable, until a broad 
expanse of water opened and my figures got 
on board and took to their heart-shaped 
paddles. Then we entered on the calm soli- 
tude of the Wulali lake, in which the grey 



KARACHI TO SRINAGAE. 43 

mountaiijs with their snowy crests were re- 
flected shimmeriug below us. As the evening 
fell, the hills got deeper shaded in misty blue, 
while the snow which covered their ridges 
reflected the sky above, till they were almost 
indistinguishable, except for the pinnacles of 
rock that spot their surface. Then night. 
Another day of peace, broken into by one 
of the sudden squalls that often sweep the 
surface of the lake, which almost upset our 
boat. We were saved from that, however, 
by the roof giving way with all it contained, 
including the old grandmother's spinning- 
wheel, for which she howled ; but all was 
soon put right again, and we glided gaily up 
to Srinagar, through scenery glorified with 
the glory of a sunset I had never seen the 
like of before. 

We were too late to go through the town 
that night, so we tied up outside and I went 
ashore in the moonlight, and saw a fairy city 
in the distance, with spires of silver piercing 
the dark, and the sound of many voices 
chanting in low monotonous chant. The 
witchery of all I had seen had got hold of 
me, and beauty was everywhere. 
- An early start brought us into the centre 
of the town before we awoke. It was dirty. 



44 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

but it was indeed lovely, there were subjects 
without end for etcher and painter. Colour, 
light, form and figures, sparkling water, 
quaint bridges, houses tumbling into attitudes 
expressly for sketching, and all beautiful. 
But the people ! I was first awakened 
by a banker in snowy turban and lemon 
coloured muslin robes, squatted by my side 
with enormous ledgers. Well, thought I, 
in the misty uncertainty of half asleep, my 
account is going to be added up, and the 




heavenly, or rather, as I looked at his burnt 
face, the other place's clerk is here to do it. 
But it was only the head of a native banking 
firm wanting to provide me with gold and 
silver untold. Thinks I, young man, if you 
were where I came from, you would not have 
many refusals to your request. At any rate 
I had to get up and try and kick him to 
get rid of him, for my answer, "that I was 
made of gold," to his "I will lend you one 
thousand rupees, I will lend you two thou- 
sand rupees, I will lend you ten thousand 



KAEACHI TO SEINAGAE. 45 

rupees," had no effect. Eventually I tumbled 
him over the gunwale of the boat, and as he 
disappeared between the matting and the 
side I expected to hear a splash, but he had 
his boat waiting for him, and soon appeared 
again with many others at the end of our 
craft. Rahim Ali then handed me a stick 
about as thick as my arm, the weight of 
which would have stunned an ox, and told 
me they were all a ''bad lot," and to give 
it them. We managed to keep them off 
and went on accompanied by all the bankers 
and merchants of the town, each with his 
boat loaded with his wares of silver and 
copper, carved wood, papier-mache, shawls, 
&c., and shouting to us, " My shop the best 
shop," "All my shop is yours, sahib," "You 
come see my shop, you not go another shop 
if you see my shop," and so on. As one 
boatman tried to get in front of another, and 
all struggled to get at us, I thought surely 
some of them will be upset, but we arrived 
safely in the Chinar Bagh, where others 
awaited us with their wares spread out on 
the grass for our inspection and acceptance. 
But the sight of Jack to meet us and give 
us welcome was too great a pleasure to be 
rudely drowned in the clamour of such a mob, 



46 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

SO we cleared them off. Jack had acquired 
the habits of an old traveller in Srinagar, 
and seemed quite hlase. His small, luxu- 
riously cushioned kishti was a treat to see, 
wath seven white-turbaned and brawny chested 
boatmen to paddle him. Conway and I 
entered it with him and went off to give our 
salaams to the Assistant Resident, Captain 
Trench, while Colonel Dicken, walking along 
the bank of the Munshi Bagh, waved greetings. 
Afterwards we visited our quarters there and 




paid a visit to Samad Shah, shawl merchant 
and banker, who turned out to be the gentle- 
man I had so unceremoniously tumbled out of 
my boat that morning. He gave us tea 
while his staff of white-robed assistants dis- 
played his wares, a feast of colour, and out 
of the rush-curtained windows we could see 
the beautiful temple of Shah Hamadan, and 
the Ghats, alive with natives washing and 
bathing, and the ever- moving panorama of 
the river. 



KAEACHI TO SRINAGAE. 



47 



We returned to Munshi Bagli to dinner, 
and afterwards I went for a walk with Con- 
way and Jack to see the temple of Pandre- 
than by moonlight. It is beautifully situated 
in the centre of what has been a lake sur- 
rounded by a grove of trees. 

We enjoyed the beauty of Srinagar for a 








week, and while waiting for the mule train 
with our baggage we visited the temple of 
Takht-I-Suliman, situated on the top of a 
small hill. From this height one has the 
whole misty vale spread out with the winding 
Jhelam tracing beautiful curves, which are 
said to have suggested the well-known Kash- 



48 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

mir shawl pattern. We could see the Dal 
Lake with its groves and floating islands, 
w^hich we afterwards visited, revelling in the 
pleasure gardens of dead emperors. 

At last all was ready for the serious w^ork 
of the ex^Dedition. Our party was now com- 
plete, Bruce having joined us on the 11th 
of April, and we w^ere to leave all traces of 
civilisation behind us, and be swallowed up 
in the mountains for months to come. 



^«M«£ vs;sa»««9Ktt/C!W*ft*«Nja^Jtfe6SJ5:L>*t 







CHAPTER III. 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 



UNDERNEATH the shadow of the chmars 
that overhung the bank of the Munshi 
Bagh our bofits hiy gently rolhng with the 
motion of the figures in grey garments, who 
passed to and fro with bundles of bedding. 
Outside of us the river was like a sheet of 
silver in the moonlight. When all was ready, 
salaams were waved and spoken and the dark 
boats shot out into the silence of the solemn 
and ghostly night. Tall poplars, like giant 
sentinels, lined the banks, and not till the 
grey, dim, fairylike city appeared, was the 
stillnes3 broken. After that songs were sung 

5 49 



50 



x\N AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



and healths exchanged, and the grey walls 
and silver minarets of Srinagar achoed and 
re-echoed with songs uuheard before, which 
to some of us were like a desecration of such 
a lovely scene. 

Next day we arrived at Bandipur, where the 
baggage was unshipped, and the kiltas in 
which most of it was packed were hoisted on 
the backs of the coolies who awaited us. 

We started on our first march, a short one 



^^M^ 




to Sanarwain, by a way which rose gently to 
the valley at the foot of the mountains, up 
which ran a steep zig-zag path. Here our 
first camp was pitched. Dark clouds were 
rapidly rising out of the hidden valleys 
behind, and soon the tops of the mountains 
around us were lost in their fleecy folds ; while 
thunder, accompanied by brilliant flashes of 
lightniug, boomed angrily through the dark 
valleys, which the red fires of the setting sun. 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 61 

thrown up throngli the gorge from across the 
water, only dimly lighted. 

Conway and the rest, not having yet tried 
the security of their " Whymper " tents, took 
shelter in an old, dust-littered shelter-house, 
but Jack and I, conscious of a strong Cabul 
tent over us, remained and watched the hills 
and valleys blotted out, and when the rain 
was upon us we lay and listened to the down- 
pour. The storm, which was heavy, passed 
away during the night, and a bright morning 
saw us on our way upwards to the Eajdiangan 
Pass. Most of us made straight up the 
mountain by the old track, but the coolies 
and servants kept to the well-made mule- 
road. As we climbed higher and higher, the 
view opened, and its beauty well repaid our 
troublesome march. Sometimes I saw beauti- 
ful bits of colour, such as trees in blossom, 
against the deep blue sky, and then came a 
dark grove of pines sunk in the shadow of 
the high hills with the heads of flowers seen 
against the dark purple of its depths. 

We had a very stiff bit of climbing to get 
to the top, after which our camping-ground, 
the Tragbal, was soon reached. It was 
situated in the centre of a pine forest with 
patches of winter snow still here and there 



52 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

in the hollows. While resting and watching 
the noisy bustle of our hundred coolies, 
Gurkhas, and servants, pitching camp, Mr. 
Lenard and Mr. Mitchell came in on their 
way down from Gilgit, and gave us stirring 
accounts of the fighting in Hunza three 
months before, and told us of the Pamirs being 
closed on account of the presence of Eussian 
and Chinese. They also gave us news, which 
was of more importance, about the state of 



1 L 
\ 

5 /4 



ifl'ip 










the roads, which were covered deep with 
snow on the passes, and in many places 
broken away by avalanches, over which it 
was very dangerous to cross. One of their 
men slipped and shot down into tlie torrent 
and was lost. So extra care was given to 
boots, and the warmest of our clothing was 
got ready for crossing the bleakest and worst 
of the passes on the morrow. Then I did 
some sketching. 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 53 

A still mountain j^ond gave an extra 
picturesqueiiess to the dim avenues of great 
pine-trees that surrounded our camp, so I 
had not far to look for a good subject. Rapid 
sketching, I found, was the only way to catch 
hold of the effects, and I made a careful study 
of the details of the scene to add to it if 
required ; but in all cases I tried to get effect 
and drawing down at once, as that was the 
only way to retain any of the spirit and go of 
the scene. 

Of course we must have a camp-fire that 
night, so the men were all sent out for 
wood, and soon a roaring flame lit up the 
depths of the dark wood, and clouds of bright 
smoke burst and trailed through the tree 
tops, while all the men sat or stood around, 
wrapped up in their thick putta clothes and 
blankets. An old boy with grey beard and 
turbaned head started up a would-be lively 
song, and all joined in the chorus, or kept 
time by clapping their hands. The song- 
was dismal in the extreme, but it had a 
weird effect. 

We were up at four o'clock to get all the 
benefit of the frozen snow surface, and an 
hour after leaving camp we were on it, in 
a bleak and cold wind that seemed to ni^^ 



54 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

bits of flesli off our exposed faces as with 
a pair of pincers, and made us shelter behind 
every rock or mound we came to. Sometimes 
the shelter was so low that we had to lie fiat 
on our stomachs to get the benefit of it. I 
saw very little of my companions, but as the 
snow got softer I could see the tracks made 
by those in front, and so knew the direction 
to take. The hard surface we had depended 
upon soon became too thin, and, plunging in 
frequently up to the waist, we made very slow 
progress, for often one's legs got fixed down 
below, so that it was a job to get them out. 
Several hours of this sort of travelling did 
not give me much opportunity of observing 
the scenery, and with dimmed snow-glasses it 
was impossible, even if one wanted to. After 
the worst part was over, I came upon Colonel 
Dicken with his comical servant, Jumma 
Khan. 

The Colonel asked me to stop, saying that 
as soon as his kilta came along he would 
have tea made. We sat under some silver 
birches, which made a beautiful scheme of 
colour with the grey snow, for at this season 
the old bark was stripped off" and the silver 
under-bark exposed. While restiog, two 
natives took turns at our legs, massaging them 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 



55 



in a manner, known only to themselves, whicli 
put quite a new life into us. I often noticed 
them doing this to each other ; it may account 
for the way in which they get through such 
long marches with heavy loads. At any rate 
I felt quite a new man after they had done 
with me, and fit for many hours' more work. 

The tea was quite a success, a small fire 
being made with dry twigs, and then I went 




on again. A steep, birch-covered slope de- 
scended from where we were sitting down to 
the pines on the road about 2,000 feet below, 
so I determined to glissade and thus save 
about two miles round. Jumping from the 
road down to a place I thought would be 
nice to start from, I went in over my head 
in a snow-drift. After struggling and getting 
perpendicular again I shot off, not on my feet. 



56 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

but it was a ticklish piece of work to watch 
and not to strike a tree. This means of 
travelling quickly got me past the snow line, 
and then the melted shish and mud made 
matters very unpleasant. I was soon on the 
road in the valley where the burning sun had 
me at its mercy. To get rid of winter 
clothing at once and into something more 
suitable for the change of temperature was 
the first work, and a coolie or two had 
additions to their loads. 

Kanzalwan was the camping ground we 
wished to reach, and a weary way it seemed 
to a sweat and dust- covered man. It was 
like a tumbler of iced champagne merely 
to see the Kishanganga, icy cold and most 
delicious to bathe in, splashing over the 
rocks ; and forgetting all warnings, I had a 
bath, fortunately without worse results than 
an awful headache. 

The march next day along the Gurais 
Valley to Gurais, our camping ground, gave 
us a good idea of the best and worst of the 
road. Avalanches of snow and rock from the 
mountains above covered it in many places 
straight down to the river bed, so that tra- 
versing it was a work of caution, and ice-axes 
were very useful to make steps with. A slip 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 57 

would have senfc us into the torrent. After 
passmg these the road brought us to a lovely 
timbered opening of the valley, which looked 
beautiful in the early morning sunlight, the 
long shadows trailing across the path and 
over the fallen timber and up the mountain 
sides. We camped under the native fort, built 
in years past against their raiding enemies 
from the north. The valley and village looked 
very prosperous, and were well watered by the 




">--^.^ 



river and streams from hidden glaciers above. 
There were many interesting and beautiful 
subjects for sketching, for the fort, grey and 
square with strong-built towers at either 
corner, was on the top of a knoll in the vale, 
with dark pines climbing up the snow-topped 
hills behind. The willows on the marshy 
bank of the river had a background, not of 
sky and distance as in England, but of sun- 
litten, yellow-coloured rock faces. 

The next two days, with much the same 



58 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

scenery, and a gradually ascending road, 
brought us to Burzil camp at the foot of the 
Burzil Pass. After we had entered the 
Burzil valley black masses of cloud gradually 
gathered and threatened heavy snow. This 
is the most difficult and dangerous pass on 
the road to Gilgit, and Mitchell and Lenard 
had told us at the Tragbal that there were 
forty feet of snow on it, and that it would 
be very dangerous to be caught on it in a 
storm. Our party was a very large one to 
attempt it, numbering 105 persons, so that 
--. it was very disappointing to us to 
"^ see such weather now. The old 
L Lambadhar of Mapnun, the last 
"^^ village at which we camped, said it 
was possible to get over on a clear morning, 
and that we should not have long to wait ; 
but there was no more accommodation for 
such a large party to stay there any time 
than a long, low hut, built of loose stones 
for the use of the dak wallahs, and only 
capable of accommodating about thirty closely 
packed. In it when we arrived were a lot of 
Pathans, most murderous-looking ruffians, 
who refused to quit, and the weather seemed 
too awful to compel any creature to sleep 
outside. But the question of shelter for the 




THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 59 

coolies demanded immediate attention. The 
snow was now falling heavily and steadily ; 
it was pitiful to see them huddled in groups 
mider shelter of any rag they could support 
on sticks over a little fire made from some 
low shrub that grew near. The heavy snow 
which had covered everything in a white 
shroud left nothing to be seen but grey 
desolation, with these dark kaots of figures 
over their little fires, the smoke and snow- 
flakes swirling about them. 

Jack's tent, in which he and I lived, was 
the largest, capable of sleeping four comfort- 
ably. We cleared everything out of it, for 
the natives were odorous, and allowed all 
who could get in to enter, and all without 
tent or hut shelter, about thirty-five, I think, 
crowded in. It was a treat to see their smiles 
and salaams, and to note the way they packed 
themselves, sitting on their heels. But we 
knew they were all right now, and Jack and 
I were provided with room in the other tents, 
for Zurbriggen and Bruce had left us at 
Gurais to cross the Kumri Pass to get some 
bear-shooting and were to join us at Astor. 

The snow kept steadily falling, but during 
the afternoon I managed to get some sketches 
of the groups of figures dotted over the snow, 



GO 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



and a snow-storm effect. We were snowed np 
here for the next two days. After the first 
night, as the weather seemed hopeless, it was 
decided to send back to the village of Mini- 
murg eighty-five of the coolies, and to bring 
them back when there seemed a prospect of 
getting on. The Pathans caused a lot of 




trouble, but when it cleared up a little the 
Gurkhas settled it by turning them out and 
sending them off, for it was too much of a 
nuisance to have to be on the alert all the 
time with such thieves near us. The situa- 
tion looked very bad, for every change which 
at first promised better weather only disclosed 
banks of dark cloud, with an advance of 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 61 

smoky misfc silently moving up, blotting out 
peak and hill and valley till it was upon us 
white and ghostlike. 

Tiie second morning opened bright and 
clear, and some coolies with luggage of 
Colonel Durand's on their way down, having 
watched and started at two a.m., cleared the 
joass before the snow came on again, as it 
did in the afternoon. We were very much 
annoyed that we had not sent for our men 
and crossed that morning, as the worst would 
have been over before the weather broke, even 
if we had started late. Each of us employed 
our time during this fine spell in our own way, 
Conway tryiug his instruments and taking- 
observations, Jack starting a snow bust of 
Conway, while I had a very good day's sketch- 
ing of the s now-covered valley. 

Our tents were now in a very bad state with 
the damp of the melted snow, but discomfort 
such as this only gave the local colour to our 
woes. During the course of the third day the 
Pathans came back and tried to make more 
trouble, so the Gurkhas set .to in earnest, and 
soon scattered them. They found shelter in 
some rocks on the other side of the valley. 
We could see their fires in the dusk of the 
evening across the grey snow slopes, and took 



62 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



every precaution against an invasion during 
the night, having been warned of their 
thieving propensities, and treachery ; so re- 
volvers were seen to and a Gurkha guard put 
in Conway's tent, while he shared the tent 
with Jack and me. 

On the morning of the fifth day, against 
all expectations, the lambadhar brought the 
coolies back from Minimurg, and surprised us 







by gettiug their loads ready for crossing the 
pass. The morning did not look at all pro- 
mising, but if they were prepared to go we 
were quite willing to attempt it, though heavy 
masses of cloud still hung low over the peaks 
above the pass. We had breakfast in the 
smoky atmosphere of the wet hut, sitting 
crouched up on bundles of stores. Jack mis- 
took a sleeping coolie for one, and was un- 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 



63 



ceremoniously upset by the man awakening 
through the unusual weight. 

After a lot of trouble we got our long line 
of men on the march upwards. The newly 
fallen snow was soft and very insecure, and 










we could see that a hard day was before us. 
After an ascent of five hundred feet, silently 
a deathlike shroud of snow enveloped us. 
Nothing but the figures of the slow-moving, 
silent coolies near us broke the grey blank. 



64 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Suddenly we were all together, the guide and 
the men having stopped, and a long wailing 
cry to " Allah " rose from the now thoroughly 
frightened coolies. Conway decided it was as 
dangerous to turn back as go on. So with 
the guide and a compass he took the lead, 
Jack and I to guard the rear and keep up 
those who would fall behind, while the others 
attended along the line. The hardened tracks 
formed by the men in front made it much 







easier for those coming after, but Jack and 
I had not much benefit of it. Some coolie, 
more frightened than another, would lie down 
on the liue and stop the rest, so we often had 
to plunge alongside through the unbroken 
snow up to our waists. It was very difficult 
to get now one, and then another out of their 
indifference to death, for in all cases they 
replied it was "Kismet," and "as easy to 
die there as at the top." One young fellow 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 65 

was completely done up, and cried, grovelling 
in the snow at our feet, to be let return, and 
his father taking up his load, and putting it 
on his own back, added his entreaties. With 
such a well marked track, which would take 
the falling snow some time to fill up, we 
knew, if he made a rush for it, being un- 
loaded, he would reach the hut. Permission 
being given, after kissing both of our clothes 
and boots, he disappeared into the mist 
behind, and we saw or heard of him no 
more ; whether he reached safety or not I 
cannot tell. I hope so, for his father was one 
of the best in the crowd, and gave the least 
trouble of any with a double load. 

The mutinous conduct of so many men 
throwing down their burdens and refusing to 
move, made our progress very slow, and to 
save their lives and our baggage much per- 
suasion was required. Snow blindness began 
to make itself felt among many, especially 
those without glasses ; their primitive pre- 
cautions of soot-blackened eyes and fringes of 
rag being insufficient to protect them. One 
of the Gurkhas suffered very much until we 
lent him a pair of our glasses. 

The incidents of the march were many. 
One of them was the fainting of Kahim Ali, 

6 



66 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

but we managed to support him along to the 
top of the pass, when the sun broke out 
through the drifting clouds, and gave us hope 
and courage for the remainder of the journey, 
though it displayed the snow-fields white and 
gleaming, and made its dazzle felt even 
through our dark glasses. 

A long journey was still before us, and with 
no refreshment except half a hard-boiled egg, 





^ Mil I i 111 



' 1^ S 



which the Colonel shared with me, we began 
our long descent to the Chelong hut. We 
went on and on over hard snow, sometimes 
plunging into soft, snow-covered gullies up to 
the waist ; but the bright sun and clear avenue 
of the valley made these incidents of the way 
of little moment. It was dark when we 
reached the hut, and snow had begun to 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 



67 



fall again, so we pitched our two tents on its 
roof, while the Colonel had a place cleared 
in the dark for his, which turned out, in the 
morning, to be on the rubbish hole of the 
place. 

We were all in a wretched state the next 
morning, but many of the coolies were very 







71 

a 



bad indeed, and cocaine was freely adminis- 
tered to allay the pain of their burning eyes. 
Our faces were swollen with blisters. Mine, 
I think, was the worst. 

Our road lay now through a long, desolate 
valley, its bleakness emphasised by great 
patches of snow. Soft slush made it heavy 



68 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

for marching, but our men bore up bravely, 
being promised sheep that evening as back- 
sheesh. Lela Eam, one of the Gurkhas, had 
to be led by the hand, his eyes giving out 
completely, but he recovered the next day ; 
four of the coolies were in the same plight, 
and one had to be left at the first village 
on our way, with frostbite in his foot. We 
camped that night at Kurrim, where the men 
feasted and made merry on the sheep Conway 
gave them. 

The next morning rain was falling when we 
left at six o'clock. We were now in the land 
of mighty landscapes and mountains, towering 
away aloft with their grey crowns of misty 
cloud, thrown back and up by the rocky fore- 
ground. At Mikiel, where we camped that 
evening, I had my first sight of a glacier high 
up in the valley between some cloud-hidden 
peaks. It made a very fine picture, and gave 
just the bit of light to a fine dark subject, 
with the trees in the foreground gloom of 
the valley. 

Three hundred yards after we left Mikiel on 
our way to Astor, the entrance to the valley 
through which we had to pass gave me a 
view of the glorious scenery we were to live 
amongst. But farther on, after we had crossed 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 69 

the bridge, at the entrance to the Astor 
Valley, I learned what the grandeur of the 
mountams really meant. We were m the 
bottom of a narrow valley, in which great 
grey rock cliffs rose high up on either hand, 
and disappeared in the mist at the end of the 
gorge, across which the clouds trailed, when 
some one shouted " Look up, Mac," and away 
in the heavens above I saw three great ice 
peaks, like towers of polished silver, which 
the passing cloud shadows dimmed and 
brightened as when one breathes on bright 
metal. The colours that played in the depths 
of this blaze of light can never be imagined 
nor described. I gazed spellbound. I never 
saw anything which had such an effect on me 
in all our journey as this. I had eyes for no 
other scenery that day, for I had seen heaven, 
and the great white throne. 

We arrived at the camping ground of Astor, 
and found two tents pitched, and thought we 
should meet some of the Gilgit men, but they 
were empty. Jack and I threw ourselves 
down under the shadow of the tents, to wait 
for the baggage. We were informed that the 
Eajah was about to visit us, and coming 
through the trees we saw a stately, turbaned 
old gentleman, with enormous moustaches, 



70 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



and a gaudily attired young one, who turned 
out to be his son. They were accompanied 
by a numerous retinue of coarsely dressed 
followers, wearing the dard cap of the country. 
They welcomed us with great heartiness, and 
offered us a dish of nuts and dried fruit, with 
a few eggs. We suggested to the youug 




Eajah that we should like the eggs cooked, 
so he took the dish away, and brought them 
back with Kashmir tea and great chapattis in 
addition, and sat with his ragged court around 
him, watching us eat. 

The evening was spent in celebrating with 
a bowl of milk punch and songs, and general 
hilarity, Jack's coming of age the day before. 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 71 

Next morning Jack's SJiikari, who had 
been with other sahibs in the nalas on this 
road before, thought he could get some shoot- 
ing for him. So they arranged to meet us 
at Bimji. It was raining hard, and kept the 
rest of us indoors till after tiffin, when we 
went to pay a visit to the town of Astor, 
about a mile from the camp. The first view 
of it from the opposite side of a deep nala 
was very striking. It is situated on the end 
of an old moraine. Its flat roofs of timber- 
built mud-plastered houses rise in low tiers 
up the slope, with tall poplars growing from 
amongst them, and, commanding the road, 
there is a picturesque fort, the walls of which 
continue upwards the sides of the deep preci- 
pice on which it is built. The path led down 
to the bottom of the nala, across the rock- 
strewn bed of a mountain torrent, and up 
a steep zig-zag crumbling path to the fort, 
where the guard of half a dozen Kashmir 
Sepoys presented arms. We visited what 
they call the bazaar, a few low houses, dark 
and windowless, with raised floors, on which 
the sellers sit, and some shelves behind with 
a few pieces of cloth. One could catch a 
glimpse of the dark inner sanctum or sleeping 
place. No things of any interest were to be 



72 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

seen, but we purchased some Patta blankets 
for the servants. ^ The streets are dirty and 
so narrow that one can touch the opposite 
walls of any of them, and the roofs too, with 
both hands. There are no vehicles of any 
kind in the country, everything being carried 
on the people's backs. 

All the villages are of the same character, 
the only buildings with any pretence to archi- 
tecture being the Rajah's palace and the 




mosque, where they have one, and, of more 
importance than all, the fort. We visited 
the fort here, escorted by the population, and 
the guard turned out once more. The officer 
escorted us over it, but the only use for it 
that I could see, was to look at the mag- 
nificent view up and down the valley, for the 
fort itself seemed as if it could not support 
a cow leaning against it. One could fill 
sketch-books all day long with the life and 
costumes of the people, who seemed to take 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 73 

a great interest in our work, and willingly did 
all they could to give us information. The 
women, of course, were nearly always out of 
sight, but we caught glimpses of some now 
and again, and dirty and ugly they were. 

The Eajah had arranged a Tamasha for us 
on the second day, being the last of the 
Eamadan, and a polo match, with a band 
of tom-toms, drums, and suranai pipes, was 
played. 

There was not much ceremony about the 
court, every one treated the old boy more like 
a father of his people than a king, crowding- 
round him, as he had the best place, to get 
a glimpse of the match, in which every one who 
had anything of the horse kind joined, from 
the prince to the peasant. The Kajah was 
dressed in a red cloak, and a sort of white 
shirt, with the shirt tails outside a pair of 
green trousers, a grey-blue turban, and the 
usual Oriental slippers with turned-up toes. 
With his great moustaches standing out beyond 
either cheek he looked the typical Rajah of 
Indian romance. 

After several games had been played, he 
asked if it was our pleasure to see any more 
polo, or would we like to see a nautch. 
Visions of sylph-like creatures floating about 



74 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

in poetic abandon passed through our brain, 
so we said that of polo we thought we 
had had enough. He commanded the nautch 
to commence, but no beautiful creatures ap- 
peared at his command. The infernal band 
shrieked and tom-tommed, and some one 
pitched a gaudily dressed youngster into the 
ring, who began posturing and skipping round 
to the music. His place was afterwards taken 
by an old man, evidently of great popularity 
from the applause he received. We soon had 
enough of that too. 

The Rajah came to see us off next morning, 
and took leave of us with many expressions of 
good-will. The coolies he supplied were a 
very poor lot, more ragged and ill-fed looking 
than the Gurais and Kashmiris who had 
carried for us so far. We were accompanied 
through the town of Astor by the Tehsildar 
and his retinue of ragged admirers, to which 
was added the Soubardar in charge of the 
guard at the fort. We were glad to be quit 
of their attentions and questions when they 
left, after accompanying us a mile beyond the 
town. The road was down hill a good half 
of the way, but we had a steep climb at the 
end, over stones and rocks, to Dashkin. 

We had a more interesting march next day 



THE ROAD TO GILGIT. 75 

through an edible pine forest, recently de- 
vastated by rock and mud avalanches, where 
I saw great pmes torn and twisted like match 
wood. At the side of one of these avalanches, 
splashed with mud which was now white and 
dry, a little violet grew all alone, and in a 
moment I was back amongst the green 
fields and hedgerows of England. I careftdly 
gathered it, and pressing it gently in the 
botany press passed on silently through the 
desolation. We camped at Doian underneath 
its old fort, where we found Appleford and the 
Doctor in charge of this section of the road, 
and exchanged news. 

We had choice of two roads for our march 
next day ; the old road over the Hatu Pir, a 
climb of 6,000 feet, and the new road, not yet 
completed; the unfinished part being de- 
scribed as very dangerous, but much nearer. 
Some of our party chose the lower road, but 
Conway and I took the upper, on account of 
the view to be had from the top, and the 
coolies came with us. We were not dis- 
appointed, and we saw the mountains under 
another aspect. A great broad valley, 6,000 
feet beneath, spread out below us with the 
Indus winding through it like a small rivulet. 
There was not a vestige of green or life of any 



76 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

sort, it was all bare rolling desert, a waste of 
rock and sand; bat away north rose the ice 
pinnacles of Eaki Pashi, 25,000 feet high. 
To oar left was the great gorge into Chilas, 
formed by the Indus, and farther still rose 
the buttresses of Nanga Parbat, itself unseen. 
Behind us was the valley we had come up, 
bounded on our right by another range of 
great mountains with the great Dichel Peak, 
across whose face the clouds rolled in 
splendour. 

We tore ourselves reluctantly from the 
scene, and prepared for our descent. All the 
coolies had gone on before us, 6,000 feet down 
a great broad fan which was very steep, and 
composed of loose rocks. Gravel zig-zags had 
been built across its faca, but the whole thing 
was in such a shaky condition that small ava- 
lanches had destroyed these in many places. 
It was simply terrible on one's boots, not to 
mention the torture of feet and legs, and the 
whole place was shifting and moving so, that 
we expected every minute to be swept away, 
mangled and unrecognisable corpses, in an 
avalanche of rocks. Skeletons of dead ponies 
here and there told of the dangers of the 
place. When it seemed to be centuries since 
I started on my way down, the bottom was 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 77 

as far off as ever. Sitting down I watched 
a pony, with a great load built up on its 
back, picking its way, accompanied by its 
owner : but sweeping low down over the 
path was the Gilgit telegraph wire, with a 
tremendous span across the gorge. This 
caught the top of the load, and yet the pony 
went on, pulling against the wire for a good 
distance, till it got too "taut." The driver 
had not seen the trouble till his animal 
stopped, and then getting up on top of a high 
rock, he grasped the wire in both hands and 
pushed it up. The wire, being at last re- 
leased, snapped the man off his perch, and he 
flew through the air like another .Zazel, land- 
ing, fortunately, among a lot of loose gravel 
instead of the great rocks that were every- 
where about. I never saw anybody so 
surprised in my life, but beyond some scrapes 
and bruises he was unhurt. Conway and I 
had each been going down in our own way, 
though sometimes Conway would make a 
short glissade straight down, when it looked 
as if the whole mountain was coming after 
him. At last he could stand the pounding 
over the loosely built roads no longer, and 
said he was going to chance it, so off he went 
down what seemed pretty clear of large 



78 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

stones. I saw a confused mass of dust and 
stones and rocks rattling and tearing down for 
about 2,000 feet, and watched in terror, till he 
waved his axe, and I knew he was all right. 
I thought the old road good enough for me, 
and continued my weary way. At last I 
arrived at the quarters of the Sepoys guard- 
ing the gorge. They had tea ready, and we 
crossed by Captain Aylmer's bridge, made 
of telegraph wire and timber, instead of the 
native rope bridge. 

We camped at Eamghat, and news came 
from Bruce at Bungi, whither he had gone 
with Zurbriggen, instead of meeting us at 
Astor, that there was some hitch about 
coolies. Captain Kemball sent his horse 
with the messenger. So Conway rode off 
and left me to bring on the baggage. In the 
morning, on climbing up to the plateau above 
our camping ground, a dead sweep of broad 
sloping valley presented itself, a perfect desert 
of rotten rusty rock, a valley of desolation 
sloping down to the Indus, the sound of whose 
murmuriug waters alone broke the stillness. 
Up in the air, swaying with open wings in 
great sweeps, a lammergeier sailed, the only 
sign of life we saw till we came near Bungi 
and met the Pathans and coolies working on 



THE ROAD TO GILGIT. 79 

the new road. Most of them looked villanons 
cut-throats, but they returned our greetmg 
cheerily enough. A detachment of troops 
was stationed at Bungi, the officers and some 
of the engineers of the road being encamped 
in a beautiful grove of mulberry, pomegranate 
and apricot-trees, and our tents were put up 
in the same place. The grove was like an 
emerald set in rusty iron, such a contrast the 
green oasis made with the surrounding desola- 
tion. All our party were united here once 
more. The only one of all the hunting parties 
to have any success was Zurbriggen, who had 
managed to get a good pair of marker horns 
the day before I arrived. Captain Kemball 
took Jack and me out to try our luck at the 
only quail in the district, at which everybody 
had had a shot without success. We were 
not more successful, though we saw it once 
whirr and dive into the cover, but we got some 
other birds to add to the collection of skins 
we were making. The next morning Conway 
arranged with me to bring on the baggage 
when I received a message from Gilgit, for 
which he, Bruce, and Zurbriggen started that 
day. 

The sun was frightfully hot in this barren 
valley away from the shade of the trees. 



80 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

I wanted to get a good sketch of Nanga 
Parbat, 26,630 feet high, whose broad face, 
crowned with peaks and veined with ridges 
of pearly snow and ice, filled the south end of 
the valley with tantalising beauty ; but the 
red-hot air dried up the water colour as soon 
as it touched the paper. I found a stream 
trickling down from some hidden glacier, and 
soaked my drawing thoroughly, keeping my 
paint box in it as well all the time I painted, 
to prevent the colours drying, and so was able 
to get a fairly decent sketch before it was 
quite dried up. 

I spent four days here, sketching and 
exploring. I crossed the Indus to see the 
old Saye fort, where Dr. Eobertson, by 
the upsetting of a boat, lost thirteen men 
and all his baggage on his way to Kaffi- 
ristan. On the fourth day a message from 
Conway gave us our " route," and the next 
morning we were off over a desert of sand. 
After two hours we arrived at the engineers' 
hut, where Maynard gave us acceptable 
drinks of what was left by Conway and 
Bruce, and I think we cleared him out of 
supplies. We crossed the Indus by the flying 
bridge, a great barge-like floatiug structure, 
moored to a pulley running on a cable 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 81 

stretched from bank to bank in a deep 
rocky gorge, the current carrying us over to 
the other side, the whole operation being 
beautifully managed by the boatman with 
great sweeps. It was so dark that it was 
difficult to find Bigstone Camp, where so 
many big stones were about, but at last we 
discovered a faint light glimmeriog in the 
distance, and soon were settled alongside 
Wilkinson, another of the engineers on the 
road, and were regaled with filtered water 
which he had in bottles. 

Early in the morning we sent ofi the 
tents and baggage; except the Colonel's, 
with whom I stayed till lunch, when it 
began to blow a perfect storm. The valley 
here is very open, and the dust swept by in 
choking clouds, carrying away the Colonel's 
tent in the first burst ; Wilkinson's was j^ro- 
tected with a rampart of stones. The cup of 
tea which we were having was soon solid with 
accumulated dust, but I managed to get some 
more under shelter of the big stone from 
which the camp is named. 

On starting again we had a very bad bit of 
road to pass over, swept by the avalanches of 
stones the road-makers were rolling down 
from above. Further on I was met by 

7 



82 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

servants with three horses, kindly sent for 
us by Dr. Eoberts from Gilgit ; so, sending 
one back for the Colonel, and putting 
Rahim Ali on the other, I mounted and 
slowly trotted on. I had no guide, and soon 
lost my way, taking what had formerly been 
a road. Finally my horse was brought up on 
his haunches at the bottom of a narrow gully, 
which ended in a sheer precipice of about a 
hundred feet. There was hardly room to turn 
on the narrow ledge, and it was certainly im- 
possible to get off unless I slid down his tail, 
but the animal knew what he was about, and 
carefully picking his steps, he turned on his 
hind legs, and made his way up again, and 
down another gijUy so narrow and precipitous, 
that when a rock on which he stepped gave 
way with him, I had to throw my legs up over 
his neck to keep them from being crushed. 
We got to the level at last, and a canter over 
the dry part of the Gilgit river bed took me to 
the camp, which was already pitched. A quick 
canter next day brought us to the green fields 
and orchards of Gilgit, and in the Bagh near 
the Residency were tents ready for all of us, 
and our welcome was delightful. 

To finish up, Jack came in, having tramped 
from Bigstone Camp in the one day. We 



THE EOAD TO GILGIT. 83 

dined with the officers at the mess that 
evening, and gave them the news of tbe 
outer world to wbich tliey had so long been 
strangers. 



CHAPTER IV. 

BAGROT, DIRRAN, AND GARGO. 

GIL GIT itself is a most deliglitful place, 
with green fields and fruit trees every- 
where, though its pleasant groves and beau- 
tiful walks are surrounded by barren hills. 
The river runs through the centre of the 
broad valley, and divides the desert from the 
fertile fans on which it is situated. 

The first day after our arrival we were 
invited to dinner by the Resident, Colonel 
Durand, and as all our baggage had been sent 
off that morning to Bagrot, a question of 
dress arose, for we were in the lightest and 
airiest of attire for our hot march on the 
morrow. Conway was fitted out by Dr. 
Roberts in a curious costume. He retained 
his heavy marching boots, patched knicker- 
bockers, and long stockings, then came 
borrowed plumes of red sash to hide the 
want of a waistcoat, a dress shirt and tie, and 

81 



BAGEOT, DIEEAN, AND GAEGO. 



85 



a dining jacket. Jack and I were left to our 
own resources, as Conway had exhausted the 
supply, and we were lovely sights. I had an 
old black coat without shirt or collar, but I 
pinned a dirty white scarf round my throat, 




'•■\ 



■^1 



and for the rest I was like Conway. Jack 
had neither scarf nor black coat, only a 
light linen coat much torn and stained, and 
native made knickerbockers, loud plaid deco- 
rated stockings and cJia2)2^lis. We washed in 
one of the irrigation channels, drying our- 



86 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

selves with an old shirt, and Colonel Dicken 
lent us a brush ; then, without a shave since 
we left Srinagar, we were ready to dine at 
the Besidency. We had doubts as to our 
reception, for we looked two of the most dis- 
reputable tramps that ever presented them- 
selves at a respectable house, and we sat 
in the moonlight on the fence surround- 
ing the grounds of the bangla, waiting for 
the bugle, wondering whether we ought to 
go, though there was nothing to eat any- 
where else. Colonel Dicken joined us just 
then, so under the shadow of his respecta- 
bility, and after trippiug over several sleeping- 
servants in the doorway, we presented our- 
selves. 

Colonel Durand had made a perfect picture 
of the interior, and it was quite a revelation 
to see such charming rooms so far away from 
art and civilisation. Of course our fears were 
groundless, and receiving our apologies with 
an amused smile at the odd picture we pre- 
sented, Colonel Durand welcomed us. We 
had a most delightful evening, but I had 
continually to look at my companions and 
their costume, to keep from forgetting I was 
not in London, instead of sitting in the centre 
of the Himalayas, surrounded by savage 



BAGEOT, DIEEAN, AND GAEGO. 87 

tribes, and all the primitive life of uncivilised 
nations. 

Taking care not to trip over any more 
servants who were lying about on the verandah 
outside, .we said good-bye to our pleasant 
host, and Jack and I made for a deserted tent 
where Zurbriggen had fixed up his bed. We 
made ourselves as comfortable as we could on 
the ground after a few Donnerivetters from 
Zurbriggen, at our waking him. Conway and 




Bruce were put up by the officers in their 
quarters. 

We were all kindly provided with ponies by 
Dr. Roberts next morning. After good-bye 
to Colonel Dicken, who was going to the 
Dishtal Nala to shoot, we rode through the 
paths that divide the fields of growing grain, 
and descended to the light suspension bridge 
made by Captain Aylmer for the transport of 
troops the year before, during the Hunza 



88 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

campaign. Over the bridge we were once 
more in the land of waterless desert, strewn 
with rocks and boulders of conglomerate. I 
never was much of a rider ; but to canter 
through country like this was a great deal 
more than I would attempt. I saw Conway 
and Jack try in a most reckless manner to 
catch up the officer at the head of a mountain 
battery on the march to Hunza, the ponies 
taking everything that came in their way. I 
could see their hoofs slipping on stones they 
struck, and thought every moment they must 
surely be down, but they were as sure-footed 
as a marlior, and never missed their footing. 
However, I and Zurbriggen, who was of the 
same way of thinking as myself about riding 
here, kept at the tail of the battery and 
admired the capital way the men got over the 
ground. We parted with them at the en- 
trance of the valley to Hunza and Nagyr, and 
shortly after we came to a broad rolling level 
of sand. A quick trot over this brought us 
to our first rope bridge. 

While our little group was dismounting, I 
noticed curious hesitating glances cast by 
different members of the party at the swajdng 
structure which we had to cross, and used as 
I was to the sea, I myself hesitated, when I 



BAGEOT, DIREAN, AND GAEGO. 89 

had examined the material of which the 
ropes were composed. They were simply 
twigs plaited in three-stranded plait, three or 
four ropes of which formed the foot rope, and 
elbow high on either side were three more for 
hand hold. The thing was held together by 
V's of single rope at varying intervals, and to 
prevent the hand-ropes being drawn to the 
side by the weight of the person crossing, 
forked sticks, four or five to the bridge, were 
stuck on them, and these had to be climbed 
over. Altogether it was a pretty nervous 
balancing feat. The whole was supported on 
either side of the river from timbers fixed in 
pyramids of loose stones, the ends of the 
ropes being fixed in the same way. The 
bridge hung low in a deep curve over the 
boiling torrent. One of our Gurkhas, Karbir, 
after carefully strapping all he was carrying 
on his back, ice axes, camera, my sketching 
bag, &G., was the first to try it, and, carefully 
making his way with long strides down the 
smooth worn ropes at the end, he got along 
the more level curve of the middle. The ice 
axes catching every now and again in the 
projecting ends of the twigs, gave him some 
trouble, but soon he was standing on the 
opposite side with a broad grin of triumph. 



90 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

When my turn came I found it very difficult 
to get a good hold of the rope, and wished 
many a time on the way that they were 
composed of good manilla, for the sharp ends 
of the twigs tore my hands. When I was 
right over the water, the constant looking for 
good foothold, some of the strands being 
broken, soon started the bridge apparently 
flying up stream, with much the same effect on 
me it would have on a sailor if his ship took to 
driving twenty knots an hour sideways ; but a 
look up at the bank now and again brought it 
back to its moorings. 

The rest of the road to Sinakar was of 
the same desolate character. Our camping- 
ground overlooked a deep gorge, above which 
the picturesque ruined fort was built, making 
an excellent background to a sketch looking 
down over the valley, with the Chilas hills in 
the distance. 

On our further journey up the valley the 
next day, we were met by the inhabitants of 
Bnlchi with their band of five performers — 
two big drums, a pair of tom-toms, and a 
couple of pipers — and the principal men of the 
village. It was a picturesque crowd, composed 
of old grey-bearded patriarchs, and youilg 
men, with oily, jet black hair hanging on 



BAGEOT, DIERAN, AND GARGO. 91 

either side of the face, wearing the comical 
round Dard caps, and loose coarse pyjamas, 
a leg of which would make an ordinary suit of 
clothes for a,n Englishman. Their long shirts 
were tied with a coarse sash at the waist, and 
they had sleeves that would reach almost' to 
the ground, if they were let fall. Over all 
was the great coarse blanket which always 
drapes gracefully, whether wrapped round 
them as it was when very cold, or thrown 
over one shoulder when warm. We were 
great objects of curiosity, but the heartiness 
of their welcome gave us much pleasure, it 
was so evidently sincere. 

The band marched at the head of our party 
shrieking and tum-tumming for all it knew, 
while the principal men walked alongside, and 
gave us all the information they could. We 
sadly missed some one to interpret, for though 
Conway had made great progress in his 
Hindustani, that language was not familiar to 
most of them. The village was en fete when 
we arrived, and in the main square, under the 
shadow of the mulberry-trees, and overlooked, 
I am sorry to say, by what we felt to be the 
midden of the town, two charpois were set 
out covered with blankets, on which we were 
requested to recline while they served us with 



92 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

fruit, milk, and everything they thought we 
should like, and they could supply. The 
population sat around in a circle, and the 
band played, and the villagers danced, in the 
slow measure of the country, posturing and 
twisting, while the spectators applauded. 
The children, who were mostly naked, played 
about among the groups like children all over 
the world, chasing each other or pushing 
some shy one a little nearer to us when it 
wasn't looking. But some sat and gazed at 
us awe-struck. 

The Lambadhar, or headman, recommended 
us to camp there, but Conway wished to get 
to the Bagrot glacier that evening, if possible, 
and we pushed on till we came in sight of it. 
Here we were stopped by a rock ridge running 
across the bend of the valley, over which it 
would have been difficult to make our way 
that evening, so we decided to camp and cross 
next morning to the other side of the glacier. 
The weather was looking very threatening, 
and eventually it turned out a wet night. 

Zurbriggen, who had surveyed the glacier 
during the evening, led us next morning to 
the route he had selected. The coolies were 
sent round the foot of the ice in charge of two 
Gurkhas, accompanied by village guides, to a 
camping ground recommended by them. 



BAGEOT, DIEEAN, AND GAEGO. 93 

Then commenced the first glacier experience 
of Jack and myself. We scrambled over 
some stony moraine into a gully of wet slush 
between it and the ice, which rose at a steep 
angle about forty feet above us, black, wet, and 
dirty. Jack's shikari, who thought he knew 
more of the mountains and their peculiarities 
than anybody else, tried to skip up to the 
top, but a confused mass of white turban and 
shawl mixed with mud and stones, curled up 
in an icy pool at the bottom, was the result, 
and his vapouring was over, while he gathered 
himself together, and slunk to the rear of the 
party. However, he was a good man on the 
rocks, no matter what he knew about ice, and 
his boasting was not without grounds. Zur- 
briggen, meanwhile, with a good laugh at the 
incident, had set himself to cut steps, or 
rather a perfect staircase ; he evidently knew 
our abilities, and we began to mount the 
ice. Bruce's dog, Pristi, who accompanied us 
from Gilgit, had watched the discomfiture of 
the shihari, and mounted step by step as we 
did. On top a perfect chaos of crevasses and 
seracs presented itself, and roping became 
necessary. Zurbriggen gave us instructions 
how to proceed, especially addressed to Jack 
and me, who were on a rope with him. The 



94 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

only means of getting on to the best part of 
glacier was by a knife edge of ice, with black 
death on either side, bounded by cold horror. 
He explained to us that if one of us slipped, 
the other was to jump off on the other side, 
so that we would hang like a pair of rabbits 
over a door, instead of both going down 
together. It may have been very good advice, 
but I am glad to say no need arose of putting 
it to the test. I heard Jack mutter that he 
would be hanged if he would, but it was 
"nervy " business balancing on the flat steps 
knocked off the edge. Then there was more 
step cutting down and up seracs, and more 
jumping crevasses. The rope was a great cause 
of swearing and recrimination, for I was con- 
tinually brought up short by Jack, when he 
was negotiating a more difficult part than 
another, and then I served him the same, 
until we got to sliuging names and sarcastic 
remarks, and our ancient friendship seemed 
about to dissolve. But the passage was 
soon over : in the hurry at the last stair- 
case, a step missed saved me the trouble of 
thinking I might not reach the bottom with- 
out a fall. However, I was not hurt, and felt 
thankful to be off slippery ways. The steep, 
perpendicular face of the crumbling moraine, 



BAGEOT, DIEEAN, AND GAEGO. 



95 



from which the ice had retreated, had next to 
be surmounted ; it was about eighty feet 
high, and no step that was dug out would hold 
a second person ; so, covered with dust, 
sweat, and mud, and in vile tempers, we at 
last reached the top and entered a beautiful 
forest of pine-trees. A crisp tramp through 
the welcome shade, over dried leaves, soon 
restored our equanimity, and brought us to a 




pleasant camping-place, where, shortly after, 
our tents were up, and all was prepared for a 
fortnight's work in these valleys. We were 
now on the ground where the real surveying 
and exploring must commence, and an attempt 
would be made to cross some of the snow 
passes into the Hunza valley. 

The district selected for the first work of 
the expedition comprised the two deep valleys, 
branches of the main valley we had come up 



96 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

from Gilgit ; they were surrounded by all the 
great peaks of the Hunza Nagyr and Gilgit 
district. On the west, Eaki Pushi's great 
buttress, Chiring Chish, towered over the 
Bagrot glacier 10,000 feet above us, with its 
range of satellites spread out on either side, 
like the wings of an immense snow bat. 
North was the great range that overlooked 
Hunza Nagyr, with peaks 20,000 to 23,000 
feet crowning its summit. Hidden from us 
at the head of the second valley lay the other 
great peaks of the Haramosh range ; and on 
the south, more beautiful than all, was the 
dome and lily-like bowl of Dubanni, the 
highest of whose many peaks measured 
20,168 feet. I had subjects without end for 
sketching ; Conway had a lovely piece of sur- 
veying to try his prentice hand on ; Bruce 
and Zurbriggen the most perfect selection of 
virgin peaks in the world to climb, and Jack 
bear, ibex and wild cat to shoot. It was a 
perfect life, and we took to it as if we had 
never known the trammels and artificiality of 
civilised existence. We felt that we lived 
the life we were meant to live, and revelled 
in the light as men who had been released 
from a prison house. 

Taking a gun under my arm and my note 



BAGROT, DIRRAN, AND GARGO. 97 

book, I went out the first clay to select sub- 
jects for my work. The scent of the pines, 
and the brilHant sunlight striking through the 
trees, the cheery voices of the birds, the crisp 
rustle of the dry leaves underfoot, made me 
feel like shouting in very gladness of heart to 
be alive. 

I could see Dubanni looking glorious, its 
lofty dome in perfect majesty dividing the 
fleecy clouds which almost rivalled it in 
whiteness. Their blue shadows sank and rose 
again out of the basin, fluted and pencilled in 
delicate lines with the tracks of innumerable 
avalanches, from which its glacier emptied 
itself milk-like into the dark valley beneath. 

I could also see Chiring Chish from my 
seat on the high moraine. It was for ever 
growling and grumbling, with a perpetual 
rattle of avalanches shot down from its dome- 
shaped top like falling comets. Below me 
was the tortured Bagrot glacier, crumbled 
and crushed, winding its way to the mouth 
of the valley. 

When Bruce and Zurbriggen, with the 
Gurkhas, had conquered one small peak of 
18,000 feet, and Conway had surveyed and 
mapped the glacier on the east side of the 
valley, arrangements were made for a minor 



98 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

expedition to the other side. Crossing the 
glacier higher up at a more level and unbroken 
part than we had been on the first day, we 
soon reached the opposite moraine. Conway 
and Zurbriggen left us to climb a near ridge 
overlooking the valley for a surveying station, 
while Jack and I went on and selected a 
suitable place for a camp. We found one a 
little way up the Kamar nala near a glacier 
stream in the shade of some pine-trees. As 
only one tent was being brought over, Jack 
and I set to and made ourselves a leafy bower 
of pine branches, and got lunch ready. 
Conway turned up in a state of mind wholly 
unlike his usual cheery, bright nature, which 
was caused by the unfortunate smashing of 
his favourite camera, but ever ready of re- 
source, he soon brightened up and tinkered 
it with wax, and could manage to use it till 
properly fixed. 

Bruce came in rather late with the baggage, 
and was feeling very unwell. Arrangements 
were made for a climbing expedition, and 
Conway and I, with Zurbriggen and two 
natives, were off early in the morning to make 
as high a camp as we could for our peak next 
day. At the head of the nala the foot of the 
couloir appeared, from which the stream 



BAGROT, DIRRAN, AND GARGO. 99 

issued that ran by our camp. We were soon 
on its icy surface, and a steady upward climb 
to the turn of the gorge, down which it flowed, 
showed us its twin fan-hke sources, under the 
broad faces of two peaks 10,000 feet above, 
one of which we intended to chmb. We also 
discovered that it was swept by stones from 
one side, for as we climbed I asked what a 
little speck of dust, tliat kept spouting like 
sand struck by rifle bullets, high up a broad, 
dry side nala, might be ; but the coolies had 
seen it also, and no answer was required, for 
their frenzied efforts for shelter were enough 
to tell me what it was. We stood still and 
watched it coming nearer and nearer, and at 
last, after hitting the ice and rebounding 
twice, a great rock, going as if shot from a 
cannon, and whirling like a catherine-wheel, 
smashed itself into a thousand atoms far 
above us on the rocky wall of the couloir we 
were climbing. We quickly got past this 
dangerous spot, and going steadily for two 
hours we found a great overhanging rock 
stuck in the face of the peak we hoped to 
climb. Under the shelter of it we pitched 
our Mummery tent, and prepared for the 
night. From where we were camped we had 
a splendid view of the valley below and the 



100 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

peaks that overlooked the Bagrot glacier, 
right up the Sat nala to the Gargo glacier, 
which we were to explore later. A snow- 
storm was gathering over it, and made a 
grand picture, which I painted, sitting on the 
ledge of our camping ground. If I had fallen 
I should not have stopped rolling for two or 
three thousand feet, hut there was nowhere 
else to sit, and the fire, over which Zurbriggen 
was making some soup, shared the seat, so, 
with the driving smoke and the ashes blowing 
about one, sketching was not all a pleasure 
at an altitude of 13,000 feet. Snow com- 
menced to fall around us ; through it we 
could hear the Bam CJiuho?' crying far below, 
as the three of us crawled into our little tent, 
and made ourselves as comfortable as the 
situation would permit. 

At 2.30 the next morning Zurbriggen woke 
us up saying it was time to start, and good 
man that he is, he had a hot tin of Kock's 
meat peptone ready. So, waking up the two 
coolies, who were sleeping under the rock 
wrapped in their thick blankets, we packed 
the tent and sent them down. 

Zurbriggen led us across the snow in the 
grey dawn towards the opposite peak, which 
he thought the easiest of the two, but when 



BAGEOT, DIERAN, AND GARGO. 101 

we were nearly over, he changed his route, 
and made for the col. The snow was very 
soft, and it was continual deep wading the 
whole way. The work was fearful, and at last 
I left my sketching bag on a knob of rock, for 
it felt about a ton weight. On the col we 
had a rest and a tin of Irish stew, and started 
up the arete to the peak north of it. The 
perpendicular walls of slate-like rock of which 
it was formed seemed to me to offer no foot- 
hold at all, but Zurbriggen's excellent eyes 
found out many a crack and cranny to climb 
by. I was glad to get hold of something 
more substantial than the snow we had been 
ploughing through, but as we got higher, I 
could not help thinking how on earth we were 
to get down, for on either side the arete fell 
away in almost perpendicular slopes of rock 
and ice, hundreds of feet below. And then 
when we thought we were near the top, and 
turned a corner, we found ourselves on a little 
isolated peak away from the main ridge. 
Zurbriggen calculated it would take us seven 
hours more to do the big peak, and as the 
clouds were gathering and it was late, we 
decided to abandon the attempt, and be 
satisJtied with what we had done. So our 
first peak, which we named the Serpent's 



102 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Tooth, had been climbed, and I had made my 
first ascent. 

Our return down the rocks was more diffi- 
cult, as I expected. Handhold of course one 
could see, but when one's feet are haugmg 
over nothing, an eye in each big toe would be 
useful. In one place the old foothold had 
given way underneath. Zurbriggen had fixed 
himself in the shelf above, aud to it I hung 
by my hands. After trying to reach with my 
foot a point of rock which I could see over 
my arm, I asked if he was all right, for if so 
I would let him swing me into it with the 
rope. His cheery very good, atclia ! gave 
me confidence, and letting go, 1 swung in 
from over empty space and caught my toe in 
the place, and w^as all light. After this we 
were soon on the col, and shared a tin of cold 
soup. From the col the snow couloir ran 
straight down. We decided to glissade, but 
the snow was not quite hard enough for our 
boots. We sat down and shot away at a 
tremendous pace. I had a glimpse of Conway 
as he flew past me, the centre of a snow circle 
thrown over him by his feet, but suddenly I 
struck a mound of snow^, and shooting through 
the air landed on a second, which pitched me 
straddle-legs on a third, where I stopped. 



BAGEOT, DIEEAN, AND GAEGO. 103 

Getting out of this, I had a look for my bag, 
aud finding it, started oif again till I brought 
up at the hard surface. I tried my first 
standing glissade, with tbe usual result, for 
my feet shot out, aud I became a confused 
heap, but persisting in the attempt, I landed 
at the bottom in proper style. Shortly after 
we were in camp, and found Bruce very ill 
with Burma fever. Fortunately Dr. Koberts 
had arrived to spend a few days with us. 

Bruce felt unable to move the next morn- 
ing, and leaving him, comfortably fixed in the 
leafy hut Jack and I had built, in charge of 
Eoberts' hospital orderly, with a Gurkha and 
coolies, we returned to our main camp at 
Dirran, glad to be back once more where we 
could get a cup of good tea and a smoke. 
Unfortunately the cigarette papers Jack and 
I used were done, but Dr. Eoberts gave us 
the tissue paper from his medicine bottles. 
This evening I had made a platform of pine 
branches underneath my tent, and the misery 
I suffered all night getting the spikes out of 
my body and trying to lie comfortably w^as 
unbearable, while the night was made hideous 
by some wild cats, fighting over the tent 
refuse. Pristi, who would not face them, 
added a growling accoiupaniment. Talk of 



104 AN AKTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the row made by a night concert of London 
cats, it is purring in comparison to a Hima- 
layan tabby on the prowl ! 

The next day was mostly spent by the 
members of the expedition in darning stock- 
ings, mending clothes, and getting ready for 
a change of camp. We had had some very 
wet weather since we came here, and this day 
it rained all the afternoou, the greatest draw- 
back to all work in these regions. 

Passing through the village of Sat, or rather 
over it, on our way to Gargo, for trunks of 
trees with rough hewn steps lay against the 
low flat roofs of the houses, we explored its 
smelling streets from the roofs, and passed on 
into a lane of wild rose-trees. The villagers 
were very attentive, and the head men gave 
us all the information in their power, a 
courtesy we received from all the villages we 
passed through. "When we reached the foot 
of the glacier it was almost indistinguishable 
from the valley around, so thickly was it 
covered with earth and stones, but its position 
in the valley, and the dirty black faces down 
which sand and stones continually rushed, 
marked it out. The track led over its surface, 
on which flowers and shrubs grew at intervals, 
and we saw the recent track of bear, and 



BAGEOT, DIEEAN, AND GAEGO. 105 

Jack's hopes rose high in consequence. After 
four hours' scrambhng over the horrible 
surface, we reached a beautiful glade, between 
two old grass-covered moraines, where we 
decided to camp. 

There was a possibility of our having a 
lively time at this place, for it was evident 
from the marks about tlie ground that bears 
frequented the woods and thickets near us, 
and we were not mistaken. I was sketching 
a view of Eaki Pashi enveloped in clouds, 
when I saw Zurbriggen, who had gone out to 
explore the place, returning with haste and 
in great excitement. He told me he had 
seen a bear, and pointed to a distant patch 
of snow, • across which I could see a black 
spot moviiig slowly. Getting a rifle from the 
camp, he went back, but did not see it again. 
It was probably frightened away by Jack, who 
was out bird collecting. 

Jack made an early start next morning, and 
while we were at breakfast came in with the 
air of one to whom bear-shooting was an 
everyday occurrence. He had shot a fine 
specimen of the red bear, and got a story 
that will last till the next bear he shoots. 

Of course I must go out bear-hunting the 
next day. It was not great fun to be roused 



106 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

out of one's warm eiderdown bag at half-past 
three in the morning, with the temperature 
somewhere between twenty and thirty degrees 
below freezing point, to have a half-boiled cup 
of chocolate and a dry biscuit for breakfast, 
and do a long march through tangled wood 
on steep hills. The sJdJcari made frenzied 
gestures all the time for us to be careful and 
not make a noise, though I don't believe 
there was a bear within ten miles of us. We 
were placed in a position to see any animal 
who was fool enough to come out to feed a 
morning like this. Oh, how I longed for one 
cigarette ! After innumerable false alarms 
that bear were in sight, we lighted up and 
wandered back to camp. I did this for four 
mornings without any success, and made a 
vow that if any bear wanted to be shot he 
would have to come to my tent and bring a 
gun with him. 

A beautiful maidan behind our camp gave 
Conway the chance of laying out a base-line 
for his plane-table work, and his map got on 
rapidly and had some shape, now that he had 
commenced to inlc it in. It was a chaotic 
jumble of lines and stars to me before. We 
had many pleasant hours together while I 
sketched and he worked at his map. 



108 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

After a week spent here, our work was 
almost finished, and it was decided that Jack 
and I should return to Gilgit to collect 
supplies for the march to Hunza-Nagyr, while 
Conway and Bruce would try and cross over 
the watershed that divided it from Gargo and 
meet us there. 

Sitting on the ice during a severe snow- 
storm, and the damp and exposure, had 
brought a severe illness, and the pain and 
agony I suffered on the way back to Gilgit 
will never be forgotten by me. The discom- 
fort, accentuated by the last day's march of 
eight hours under a burning sun and without 
water, resulted in my being laid up at Gilgit 
for five days, at the end of which, through 
the kind attentions of Dr. Eoberts, I was fairly 
well again. Conway and the whole party 
returned, all feeling the efi'ects of the bad 
weather, which prevented them from doing 
the pass into Hunza. 

Dr. Eobertson, who was now in charge of 
the district. Colonel Durand having gone to 
India, made our short stay very pleasant, as 
well as of great interest. He had just brought 
back the Kaffirs and other chiefs who had been 
through India with him to see the power of the 
English Eaj. The series of photographs and 



BAGEOT, DIREAN, AND GARGO. 109 

curiosities he had made and collected in 
Kaffiristan filled me with a desire to visit 
such picturesque and artistic people. His 
stories of them, however, gave a different 
turn to ni}^ desires, though the representatives 
of the people he had with him at Gilgit did 
not impress me as heing ver}^ bloodthirsty. 

But even then I tliink I fancied Dr. 
Eobertson was much more interesting than 
his following, or even than his experiences. 
Now he is known to every one in England, 
as he was then known to all on India's 
northern frontier, for a man of rare courage, 
coolness and determination, not often com- 
bined with political judgment. It is not 
quite easy to put him down in words, but 
to any one, even with no more experience 
than my own, he at once stood out as the very 
man for the position he held, and even for 
one much higher. To listen to those who know 
him is to be impressed above all things by his 
extreme thoroughness and the peculiar way in 
which he either does the absolutely right 
thing, or, at any rate, selects the best in 
circumstances when all may seem equally 
bad, until after-experience and thought show 
he was right. And to listen to him tell 
stories of his stay in Kaffiristan with its 



110 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

thousand hazards — one day, I hope, to be 
written fully by himself — or of his time in 
Chilas, when his combatant officers were 
wounded and he had lighting charge of the 
expedition, is to admire tlie modesty with 
which he relates experiences that might make 
a modest man vain. 

I remember one of those who knew him 
best say this of him : — " He is never content 
till he has gone through every single possible 
variation of a thing, and worked it out to the 
end. I have seen him take a thing and walk 
for hours with his brows knitted, and then at 
last his face would clear, and we knew he had 
the best way out of the difficulty that any 
man could devise." 

I think this is true, and if he has faults, 
they are the defects of his qualities, and the 
defects which must often distinguish the 
leaders of men either in war or diplomacy. 
I can imagine he might say that one could 
not "make omelettes without breaking eggs " 
— breaking a whole basketful if need be. 







^-'^' 



CHAPTER V. 



HUNZA-NAGYB. 

WE looked forward with much interest to 
our journey through Huuza, as we 
should meet the people who had so bravely 
defended their country the year before, but on 
once more crossing the bridge, with a silent 
salute to the green fields and groves of Gilgit, 
it was with some regret that we turned our 
faces to the long march before us. 

The valley up which our road lay was a 
scene of terrible grandeur. There were great 
boulders of rock fallen from the mountains 
above, caught on ledges of the hills, looking 

as if a touch would send them thundering to 

in 



112 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

join their companions in the valley below. 
And whether our path was hazardous or not, 
it certainly looked so. 

At noon we had a rest and some lunch by 
the river side under the shade of an immense 
boulder, before commencing the ascent of a 
high 2)arri. The road over this was a mere 
shelf cut along the top of a precipice that 
fell away to the torrent live hundred feet 
below, without any protection, while the 
other side rose straight up, and was in many 
places overhanging. While winding along 
this narrow path with my horse — one which 
Dr. Roberts had lent me — every now and 
again feeling the ground with his hoof before 
going over it, I saw, on suddenly turning a 
corner, that part of the road had fallen. The 
horse stopped — for I left him to his own 
devices— and hesitated for some time ; but at 
last, carefully testing the ground, he crushed 
along the inner side, and holding my leg up, 
we got past. The sensation wbile all this 
was happening was certainly a peculiar one, 
for the broken part was at the corner of the 
road, which I could not see, and before me 
and all around me was immense space, above 
and below. I was rather glad when we were 
over that bit. 



. HUNZA-NAGYE. 113 

Nomal is a fine, broad, open valley, with 
plenty of cultivation and groves of trees well 
watered by the river. We arrived late, but I 
managed to get a sketch of the green valley 
nestled under the great, high hills before 
nightfall. 

We had a long, hot inarch to Chalt next 
day. It was the same terrible desolation 



\ 




under a tierce sun, and the valley's sides 
around and above scorched us with the 
fiercest heat. The only thought in our minds 
all the way was to get it over as quickly as 
possible. And we looked in vain, as w^e 
turned some spur of the valley, for a green 
spot to relieve the eye from the dreadful 
monotony of burnt rock and sand. But at 
last a green line across the sky told of the 

9 



114 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

high plains of Chalt, and soon we were 
climbing a grassy slope and cheeril}^ greeting 
a native driving some cattle. We passed on 
to the fort, the grim warden of a grimmer 
land. 

Next morning we crossed the Hunza river 
by another of Captain Aylmer's suspension 
bridges, and climbed to the pass overlooking 
Nilt, where we had a splendid view of the 
open valley and the great Eaki Pushi range 
sweeping away to the north. The distant 
fields of Nilt looked green and fresh beyond 
a basin-like valley of dull grey sand and 
stone. 

Under the shade of some apricot-trees we 
had tea, which was prepared for us by the 
Kashmiri guard stationed there. Further on 
we inspected the fort, the blown-up gate, and 
narrow, dirty streets, under the guidance of 
Harkbir and Karbir, both of whom had been 
at the taking of the place. Their excited 
remarks as they described the scenes in the 
streets, while pointing out bullet marks on 
the walls which they said they had made 
when trying to shoot some one of the es- 
caping garrison, brought the scene most 
vividly before me. 

Passing from this memorial of brave deeds. 



HUNZA-NAGYR. 



115 



we contiDued our way to the camping ground 
of Grulmet, bright and fresh with irises and 
crocuses, and under the shade of the fruit- 
trees we pitched our tents tor a day's exploring 
and sketching. 

In the evening the sound of liorns and the 
iiiitezzln calhng to prayers drew nie to the 




shade of the chinars, under which nestled a 
picturesque mosque^ the only building outside 
the walls of the fort. The standing and 
kneeling worshippers, each one of them a 
picture as he stood on the praying platform 
with the long, straight lines of his blankets 
falling in statuesque repose, the grand, noble 
faces of most of the men, with their black side 



116 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

locks of hair, surmounted with the rolled dard 
cap, and lighted up by the setting sun as they 
gazed in adoration towards their Kihleh^ gave 
me great pleasure, and something which was 
more than pleasure, perhaps a little reverence 
for their childlike simplicity. Their solemn 
return to the great gate of the fort only made 
the picture more perfect, so beautifully was 
everything in keeping. 

There were subjects here without end, and 
I made a perfect sketching trip of my stay, 
regretting the moment of departure. I found 
no difficulty whatever in working from the 
natives, who were all obliging and most 
attentive. 

We met young Secunder Khan, a relation 
of the Eajah of Nagyr, at Tashot, where we 
camped on our next march. He was going 
shiharing. The village band was in attend- 
ance, and the usual dancing took place, 
accompanied by the usual uproar. 

Our way from Gulmet led through green 
fields and past orchards, and the mulberries 
being ripe, the members of the expedition 
were considerably scattered, and were usually 
to be found up the trees ; the marches were 
therefore a little longer in duration. At 
Tashot Conway had recommenced his map, so 



HUNZA-NAGYR. 117 

that Jack and I, with the principal part of the 
expedition, arrived first at Nagyr, and were 
met by the two grandsons of the Eajah, boys 
of about ten and twelve ; their father, I 
believe, had been murdered the year before. 
They were accompanied by numerous atten- 
dants, and the whole male population of the 
capital, to do us honour. Their language was 
unintelligible, but we shook hands and smiled 
solemnly, and hoped that they were very well, 
and that all belonging to them were pros- 
perous. Under the circumstances English 
did as well as anything else. They led us 
to a raised platform under great chinar-trees, 
overlooking the polo ground, and there we 
camped. The young Eajahs sat in our tent 
door with a circle of followers, who watched 
our movements with their great black eyes, 
and were silent and motionless. 

We were a great source of attraction to the 
young members of this royal family. Their 
chief delight was to be allowed to fire our 
revolvers, and they begged hard to be given 
them. 

All our work was of interest to them, and 
each of our tents had its circle of spectators, 
till it became rather a bore, but they would 
immediately leave at our request. 



118 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



The old Eajah, a villainous looking old 
scoundrel lie was, and very old and infirm, 
paid us a visit. He sat squatted on the 
ground, while two of his attendants placed 
their backs at his disposal to lean against, for 
the natives were all most servile to him, and 
fought among themselves for the honour of 
doing any little service he might require. He 




'/W/^'<^J^' 



invited us to visit his castle, and we promised 
to do so on our return from Hunza. 

The scenery all around us was of different 
character from the bare valleys about Gilgit 
and Bagrot ; for the hillsides on every 
hand were terraced with fields, and groves 
of fruit-trees filled the valley. On the north 
was a great mountain ridge, with a pre- 
cipitous face veined with bright yellow rock, 
that in the sunlight looked like gold, and 



HUNZA-NAGYE. 119 

which the natives named the Golden Parri. 
They believed it to be made of gold, awaiting 
any one who dared to enter the land of the 
fairies. But those who did would never 
return. 

Putting two Gurkhas in charge of our main 
baggage, we left Nagyr on a visit to Hunza, 
crossing the Nagyr river by a rope bridge of 




the usual frail construction. We reached the 
desert ridge which divides the Nagyr and 
Hunza rivers before the junction opposite 
Hunza's capital, and, scrambling to the point, 
where we rested and had a grand view of the 
whole sweep of valley in which these states 
lie, we at last reached the rope bridge cross- 
ing the Hunza river where it runs through a 



120 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

deep gorge. When I was goiug over one 
of the twigs picked my pipe out of my 
pocket, flinging it into the river, and on arri- 
ving at the other side and looking back I 
saw Conway had made no attempt to follow. 
Thinking something was the matter, I 
returned, and another twig picked out my 
tobacco pouch. This was far too valuable to 
let go so easily, and, forgetting for the 
moment where I was, I snapped at it in the 
air, and luckily caught it. The jerk, however, 
threw me off my balance, and I fell against 
the hand rope, but fortunately catching it 
before my feet left the foot rope, I was soon 
upright again. 

Conway very wisely would not cross with- 
out being roped to Zurbriggen. I suppose he 
thought I was too gay and giddy on such a 
circus arrangement. 

From the river bank, to which we had to 
descend after crossing the bridge, we had to 
climb 1,500 feet up the terraced fields, which 
faced us like giant steps to some ogre's castle, 
before reaching the camping ground of the 
officers a^id Sepoys stationed there. When 
we arrived we were heartily welcomed by 
Captain Bradshaw and Lieutenant Baird, the 
young officer lately killed at Chitral, who 



HUNZA-NAGYR. 121 

gave us lunch in the rough stone-built mess- 
hut they had erected, and we spent a very 
pleasant time with them. 

During the evening the mountains were 
enveloped in clouds, and rain swept the 
valleys, and as all thoughts of doing any 
mountaineering in this district had to be 
abandoned, we devoted ourselves to exploring 
the country and interviewing the inhabi- 
tants. 

During our stay we were favoured with a 
visit from the Rajah and his Wazier, both of 
whom had been lately installed by Dr. Robert- 
son. They willingly gave us all the informa- 
tion in their power about the passes out of 
Nagyr, but told us that the Nagyr Eajah 
could give us more, and that if he refused we 
were to point a loaded revolver at his head, 
which would effectually extract all informa- 
tion. They loved each other, no doubt. 

We had an interesting evening watching 
a polo match, in which the Rajah led one 
side and Lieutenant Baird the other. All the 
inhabitants, with a great band, lined the walls 
of the polo ground, and among them were 
members of the Chinese Amban's suite, at 
this time on a visit to Gilgit, in the gay 
costume of their country, their round moon 



122 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

faces and small stature making a great con- 
trast with the fine physique of the natives of 
Hunza. The charges down the ground by 
the Eajah's side gaA^e one a magnificent idea 
of the old mediaeval jousts. 






^4!(»*? 



The Eajah was dressed in a long black 
velvet coat, with bits of white muslin shirt 
bursting out round his neck, below his coat, 
and below the ends of his sleeves, and wore 
long Yarkand ridiug boots. He rode a gaily 
caparisoned pony, and made a fine picture as 



HUNZA-NAGYE. 123 

he galloped past, with his jet-black curls 
flowing in the wind. Other members of the 
court wore long, gorgeous coloured cloaks, 
while the more ordinary members of the 
party had only the grey putta clothes of the 
country, enlivened in many cases by a 
coloured scarf round the waist. The play 
was wild and furious, and, though I do not 
know which side won, I noticed the Kajah 
started the rounds of the game very often. 

We all felt how delightful it would be if we 
could only stay here for a month or two. 
Everything that the adventurous or artistic 
heart of man could desire was to be had in 
and about the valley. The greatest moun- 
tains of the earth were at hand to climb ; 
there was game in abundance, including ovis 
Poli, the desire of every big-horn hunter's 
heart ; while the artist could live in the very 
life our ancestors lived in Europe five hundred 
years ago. The costumes were almost the 
same one sees in old prints ; every village 
was a fortified place ; and, overlooking all, 
was the castle of the lord. Their agriculture, 
too, was managed on the most primitive prin- 
ciples ; fairies and goblins were thoroughly 
believed in, and their dwelling places pointed 
out ; and with it all was the fighting and dis- 



124 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

regard for life one finds in primitive races, 
where those who are always asking for the 
good old times could have their fill of them. 

But after three days in this lovely place 
Conway arranged to cross to Samaiyar, on 
the Nagyr side facing Baltit, the capital of 
Hunza, and make an attack on the mountains 
from that base. Sending the coolies and 
baggage by the rope bridges, Conway, accom- 
panied by Jack and myself, started down the 
Hunza valley to cross by Aylmer's bridge 
opposite Tashot, going up the other side to 
Samaiyar. 

We met Bruce on his way to Hunza to join 
us. After exchanging news and telling him 
our plans, he decided to stop at Hunza and 
join us the next day, but he fell ill with 
fever, and we did not see him for four da,js. 

A long but pleasant march brought us to 
the camp already pitched. Jack had been 
feeling seedy all day, and was so much worse 
the next morning that Conway decided to 
leave him and me while he went on. 

We had only a coolie to do our cooking 
now, as Rahim Ali was still at Gilgit, and w^e 
did not live in great luxur3^ Conway had 
taken Jack's servant as cook, and our coolie's 
greatest achievement was a dish of boiled 



HUNZA-NAGYE. 125 

rice. But the villagers of Samaiyar made up 
for any deficiencies in our larder, and gave us 
all the help in their power. Jack became so 
ill that, hearing there was a native doctor 
with the Kashmir guard at Hunza, I sent a 
runner for him, and he came the same evening 
in all the glory of uniform, with sword com- 
plete, and was able to give him some relief. 

On the fourth day Bruce joined us, and on 
the fifth Jack was so much better that he 
thought he might be able to get to Nagyr. 

In the meantime Conway had sent down all 
his followers with the superfluous luggage, 
intending to cross a pass to join us at Nagyr. 
So, getting a horse for Jack, he started off, 
while Bruce and I marched on foot with the 
coolies. On arrival we found Jack had hurt 
his knee through the horse bolting and crush- 
ing him against the wall of the town in 
trying to pass a tree that grew close to it. 

The weather was so bad that evening and 
the next day that we knew it would be very 
dangerous on the mountains, and we were 
rather anxious about the party which should 
have arrived early the second day if they had 
been successful. We prepared a search party 
to go out the next morning, but in the even- 
ing we had the pleasure of seeing our friends 



126 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

coming up the polo ground, having turned 
back to Samaiyar and come on here. 

The town of Nagyr is most picturesquely 
situated, for it is built up the face of a steep 
cliff, two sides of which fall away in sheer 
precipice one thousand feet down to the nala 
behind, the towered fortification walls, broken 
in many places, fringing it on the accessible 
side, the low, flat mud houses rise in tiers up 
to the foot of the Eajah's palace and the 
mosque, built of wood and stones, which 
crown the top. Behind, but separated by a 
deep nala, rise great brown-red rock cliffs, 
and from the palace's giassless windows the 
lord of the valley can see the wide sweep of 
cultivated terraces up and down his do- 
minions. Outside the town, overhung with 
a few trees, lay a pond, green and fever- 
breeding, whose surface scintillated with the 
flight of thousands of gorgeous coloured 
dragon flies, while on its grassy banks in the 
bright, sunny days, the women in ugly gar- 
ments sit carding and beating wool. High 
above the polo ground was a beautiful green 
maidan with many fruit-trees, overlooking the 
town, but separated from it by a deep gorge. 
On the end of this we found the cemetery, 
with broken graves, and where the cliff' had 




.r\. 



t 



K 



128 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

fallen away the skeletons and shining skulls 
of dead Nagyris were exposed. There were 
some newly-made graves, possibly of those 
who had fallen in defence of their country at 
Nilt, and these were bordered with a little 
railing of rudely carved wood, and looked very 
neat. 

Jack and I in the dead of night ascended to 
this place to collect skulls. I had marked out 
two which I thought could be easily got at 
without being observed from the town. We 
felt rather nervous, not from any feeling of 
seeing ghosts, but of the natives seeing us, so, 
while Jack watched, I explored with my arm 
among the debris of broken timber and stones, 
of which the graves had been built, and got 
two skulls which were almost perfect. Shak- 
ing the sand and dust out, we tied them up 
in handkerchiefs, and stealthily returned to 
camp. Conway packed and sealed them up 
in a box, and the next morning sent them on 
to Gilgit. 

We paid our promised visit to the Kajali at 
his palace, and, entering the town through 
the main gate, we were at once in the narrow, 
unpaved, steep streets. Wandering up through 
these, scrambling sometimes over the low 
houses, being careful not to fall through the 



HUNZA-NAGYE. .__ 123; 

light and smoke holes in the roofs, we-iGamie.: 
to the roughly imposing gateway ieaciing Vd 
the courtyard of the palace. A plunge: into a 
dark doorway, and a scramble up!:a great 
trunk of a tree with roughly -hewn steps,;. 
leaning against a hole above, brought us to, 
the first story. Going up tbe same sort of" 
stair again, we arrived in the durhar chamber 
of the King, who was seated in an armchair. 



that looked as if it had just left a second- 
hand furniture shop in Tottenham Court 
Eoad ; I believe it was a present from a Gilgit 
resident. Around the chamber and on the 
ground were seated the members of the court; 
in the centre was a square hole, disclosing 
another on the floor below, like the hatchways 

10 



130 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

of a ship, without any rail or other protection. 
Charpois were ready for us to sit on, and the 
palaver commenced. 

The old boy was very chary of giving any 
information about the entrances to his king- 
dom from the north, and tried to persuade us 
not to attempt to find out. He had a very 
intelligent-looking Wazier, who was more 
communicative, and from whom Conway got 
a lot of curious and useful information about 
the passes over the Hispar and the dangers 
thereof, and about fairies, and legends of the 
people and their origin. Of course the royal 
family were descendants of Alexander, like all 
other rajahs of petty states in these moun- 
tains. 

Giving our salaams we departed, paying a 
visit on the way to the mosque of the castle. 
The archaic wall-paintings of teapots, or 
things that looked like them, and of swords 
surrounded by scroll work, were very interest- 
ing and quaint. 

We met a musician with a native zither, 
decorated with a gaudy label of somebody's 
Scotch whisky, I believe, which Conway pur- 
chased. Eeturning to camp, the band had 
collected, and the day was held as a sort of 
holiday. Later on the Eajah came down, and 



HUNZA-NAGYE. 131 

magazine rifles were shown to him, and fired 
for his edification. The Eanee also sent a 
present of five eggs in a basket of roses as her 
contribution to the entertainment. 






^.--v f 










^^^if^ "^^^^ 



CHAPTEE YI. 

MIE AND HISPAR. 

A NATIVE standing in full travelling 
costume on the stone platform near our 
camp in the grey dawn of the morning, 
throwing his voice in piercing cries over the 
valley, woke us, and brought the villagers, 
hurriedly wrapping their blankets about them, 
to carry our baggage. They were soon on the 
way, and we had started on our journey to 
the most remote parts, where no European 
had ever been, and where we sometimes 
wished we had never come ourselves. 

The same wonderful labour and skill that 
must have been employed to bring the 
country into the state of cultivation in which 
we saw it, surprised us more and more as we 
went on. Though enormous glaciers filled the 



MIE AND HISPAE. 133 

higher valleys, yet on and up from their very 
moraines, fields, rich with growing grain, rose 
tier above tier to the exposed rock of the 
snow-covered hills above. As we passed 
through the villages, all the inhabitants, 
including even the women and children, came 
out and gazed at us in wonder. We were 
greatly entertained by their childlike surprise. 
At Eattallo we were received by the head 
men of Hoper, a broad, open, green valley 
encircled by the great Hoper glacier. We 
camped at Eattallo, one of the five villages 
of the district, intending to stop the next 
day and explore the source of the glacier. 

Here our party was divided, for Bruce with 
two Grurkhas, Eckenstein and carriers, left 
us to cross the Nushik La from the Hispar 
glacier, meeting at Askole the baggage sent 
from Srinagar, and then to come up the Biafo 
glacier, joining us after we got across the 
Hispar pass. Our party was now reduced 
to Conway, Jack, Zurbriggen and I, with 
Harkbir and Karbir the Gurkhas. Colonel 
Dicken did not join us again after we left 
Gilgit, and I saw no more of him till I 
arrived in London. 

We spent a pleasant time in Hoper, 
sketching, surveying, and photographing. 



134 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

The women were very amusing, we could 
see them flying as if for their Hves when 
we approached, and sometimes we came 
across one panting and breathless, hidden 
in the tall wheat like some frightened bird 
unable to get away. They were scared to 
death of us, as they had always been of 
any strangers, in a land where to be a 







!^K / 






stranger meant to be either a prisoner or 
an enemy. I never was able to get a near 
sketch of one of them. The men, however, 
were perfectly willing to stand for their 
portraits. It was ver}^ interesting to watch 
the weaving of their rough cloth in the 
open. An old man sat at one end of the 
web, while two youugsters walked up and 



MIE AND HISPAE. 185 

down on either side of it, winding the yarn 
in and out of sticks stuck upright in the 
ground. As each one arrived at the upper 
end, the old man tied the yarn to one of 
the numerous ends hangiag from a beam. I 
had not time to watch the completion of the 
process, but was charmed with the graceful 
action of the youngsters swinging the bobbin, 
and the picturesque group of gossiping old 
men looking on. 



f^^zr-. 




fe/ 



We had an interesting march to Mir, camp- 
ing the first day after crossing the Hoper 
glacier in a beautiful maiclan amongst a 
grove of wild roses. We stopped a day for 
the survey, and then crossed at the junction 
of the Samaiyar Bar and Shallihuru glaciers, 
and an exciting time it was. In crossing a 
narrow edge of ice bridging a crevasse. Jack 
slipped and fell, but was caught w^here the 
crevasse narrowed about fifteen feet down. 



136 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

-Harkbir took the turban off a coolie's head, 
and jumpmg down after him upon a great 
stone caught in a similar way, tied the turban 
round hi^ waist for the coolies to haul him 
out. Jack's description of his sensations 
while down there was most harrowing. He 
heard the glacier torrent boiling and rushing 
far below, and the heat of his body was 
melting the ice round him, letting him slide 
slowly down to destruction. None of us had 
seen the accident, but Conway thought he 
heard a cry and stopped, seemingly just in 
time to prevent him being lost, as the ice 
bridge which he was about to cross fell away 
at that very moment. 

I was with Zurbriggen, leading the coolies, 
and a busy time we had of it, helping them 
up seracs and over crevasses, but we were 
soon all safe in camp. And we certainly had 
some surprising yarns after that about our 
day's adventures. For the next three days 
bad weather prevented much work being done, 
but I was able to get some sketches of fine 
cloud effects over tlie mountains and glacier. 
Zurbriggen went out exploring routes to the 
great Saddle Peak of Shallihuru, and brought 
back exciting accounts of numerous ibex 
which fired me with ambition to secure a 



MIE AND HISPAE. 137 

good pair of horns. No regular sliihari 
being available, I took a Kashmir coolie of 
Jack's and started at five o'clock one morning, 
before the sun had penetrated the recesses of 
the nalas. After a terrible scramble over the 
loose, friable rocks and snow, causing ava- 
lanches of astounding noise, enough to 
frighten a dead elephant, I arrived at the 
feeding grounds, to find, of course, all the 
signs of ibex without the substance. Sending 
off the coolie to see what he could find, I 
waited for his report, but the only living 
things he or I saw were Conway and his 
party far below on their way to attack the 
Saddle Peak. 

Returning to the camp and to Jack, I spent 
the day sketching, while he fashioned some 
vile musical instrument out of a piece of 
-bamboo from a broken tent-pole, and made 
the place a nightmare of horrible noises in 
trying to play it. 

The next day we received a note from 
Conway, telUng us that they were stopped 
by the broken glacier, and that he would be 
back in the evening. During the after- 
noon Rahim Ali arrived from Gilgit with 
news of provisions. We had finished both 
salt and sugar, and meat without either 



138 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

was very insipid, so giving him a cheery 
" Hurrah " we settled down till Conway came 
in. He was much disappointed at his non- 
success, and sitting round the camp-fire at 
night we arranged to start for Hispar next 
day. 

Jack selected me for his guide on the 
return journey across the glaciers. We 
started off with a coolie, and luckily reaching 
the opposite side without any mishap, we 
chose a suitable place for camping, and 
awaited the others, who arrived shortly 
after. 

Next morning Jack was given charge of the 
heavy baggage, and was to cross by the 
regular pass over the ridge to the Hispar 
valley, while Conway, with Zurbriggen and 
I, were to try for a new route higher up and 
meet him at Hispar. Unfortunately Zur- 
briggen, while Conway and I were working 
on the top, had mistaken the way and lost 
sight of us, which gave us a long and weary 
march. We found him late in the evening 
when we had almost made up our minds to 
settle in the open for the night. He had got 
back to the track over the old pass, so that 
we had gained nothing in the way of a new 
route. 



MIE AND HISPAE. 139 

The march next day to Hispar I think will 
never be forgotten by any one of us. After 
a steep descent into the bottom of the valley, 
when the smi had reached its full power, we 
seemed to be wandering through the depths 
of Hades. Our thirst was iutolerable. Now 
and again our path would reach the river, and 
we would drink bucketsful of its thick liquid, 




which was half water and half sand. We 
were stopped for nearly two hours by a mud 
avalanche tearing and grinding down a narrow 
gorge which we had to cross ; it splashed 
blackly, and bubbled in huge thick bubbles, 
while boulders of rock, looking like great hogs, 
rolled over and over in it as it boiled along to 
the river. 



140 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

We remained at Hispar village two days, 
preparing for our march tlirougli the un- 
inhabitable regions of snow and ice, which 
now lay before us. This was the last habita- 
tion of man we should see for many days. 

We employed ourselves during our stay in 
surveying and sketching, and selecting the 
men to accompany us. The villagers naturally 
showed great reluctance to leave their homes 







and green fields for the untrodden snows of 
the mountains ; but with the power of written 
orders from their Eajah and the Kashmir 
Durbar, the male population of the village 
was brought before us and we selected the 
most suitable, the women bewail iug the fate 
of their own particular friends. A number of 
goats were to be taken for their milk, as far 
as grass to feed them was obtainable, and 
sheep were bought to be killed as they were 



MIE AND HISPAR. 141 

wanted. Chickens and hens had their legs 
tied and were strung to the loads on the 
men's backs. When all was ready, a very 
dark complexioned Jewish-looking individual, 
named Shah Murat, professing to be a guide 
over the Hispar, with another old native, Ali 
Shah, claiming the same knowledge of the 
Nushik La, joined us by orders of the Nagyr 
Bajah. 

Zurbriggen, who was not feeling very well, 
decided to remain at Hispar for one day more, 
and join us on the next. This he could easily 
do, as our progress must necessarily be slow 
with sheep and goats in our company. 

About a mile up the valley from Hispar we 
came to the snout of the great glacier from 
which issued the Hispar river in a furious and 
turbid torrent. Mounting the stone- covered 
ice, the great avenue of glacier-filled valley 
opened straight before us, as far as the eye 
could reach ; its hilly surface looked like a 
grey sea, frozen as it rolled. We kept along 
the hillsides in preference to the ice. Jack 
and I were a long way in advance, and when 
about to cross a snow couloir, we heard a 
noise as if the hills were being riven asunder, 
and looking up at a high precipice, a tre- 
mendous avalanche of rocks and snow from 



142 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the hidden mountains above shot into the 
air, and Hke a great waterfall rained its debris 
in thunder just before us. This was repeated 
three times. We stayed for some minutes 
after it ceased before we ventured to cross, 
and then waited on the other side for Conway 
and the baggage. Further on a little grass 
plateau, with some shrub growing near under 
very lofty rock cliffs, seemed made for 




camping on. The natives called it Choku- 
tens, and it was used by them in summer, 
as a few rough stone huts indicated, when 
bringing up their goats to the high pastures. 
A grim-looking icefall, through which tall, 
spiky rocks tore and twisted their way, hung 
far above us, but we camped away from its 
dangerous shoot. In the evening Zurbriggen 
joined us in good health once more. 



MIE AND HISPAE. 143 

Two days more of crawling, climbing and 
falling over the edges of loose moraine, and 
the stOne-covered surfaces of dirty green, 
slimy glacier, brought us to Haigutum, the 
last camphig-place before we parted company. 
1 was glad to see it was on level ground. 
The night before we reached it we were 
sleeping at such an angle that both Jack and 
I, waking up with a feeling of intense cold in 
the morning, found ourselves outside the tent 
on our way down to the valley below. 

The carriers had been carefully watched by 
Zurbriggen during the marches, and the best 
of them were now selected for our passage of 
the Hispar. The remainder, under the charge 
of Jack, were to cross by the Nushik La. Ali 
Shah, the guide of the pass, Jack took under 
his special charge in case of any treachery, as 
we suspected him and Shah Murat to be spies 
of the Rajah, who was constantly sending 
runners with picturesque, dirty letters in 
Hindustani, which Rahim Ali translated, 
warning and entreating us not to attempt 
to cross any of the passes, as they were so 
dangerous. 

It was with some fear in our hearts for 
Jack's safety that we ate our afternoon meal 
together. We charged him when he reached 



144 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Scardu to send tobacco and anything of an 
appetising nature he could get to Askole, if 
he did not meet us there himself. We 
suspected that once he got to a pleasanter 
land, the ice and snow would see him no 
more if he could help it. 

On July rsth, at six o'clock in the evening, 
Jack started with his party. Zurbriggen went 




C-' i/ 



to help them over the col and return to us 
again. We did not see Jack again till 
October 9th. 

Our men in the meantime were erecting 
huts for themselves of the loose rocks lying 
around, and in a short time a small village 
of very substantial dwellings was established, 
fires were lighted, and cooking and other 



MIE AND HISPAE. 145 

household duties were attended to, as if 
their journeying was over, and this place 
their future home. 

The little encampment looked very pleasant 
and comfortable amid the grand but inhospit- 
able scenery by which it was surrounded. 
From the camp we could see the clear ice 
at the head of the glacier, and under a roof 
of black cloud bridging the pass, faint, pearly 
lines of sun-flaked snow made visible its 
rolling snowfields. 

I made a sketch of it in the eveniug, but 
the weather was dull aud unpromising, and 
clouds rolled low over peak and ridge. Con- 
way and I chatted over our prospects and 
plans, and had some words to spare for the 
grandeur and solemnness of the place. It 
was very strangely still, only some loosened 
stone rattling down the depths of a black 
crevasse in the slow passage of the great 
ice river, broke the stillness. 

In the morning great banks of cloud rolled 
about the valley, and, enveloping us in their 
embrace, made us very wet, but more 
anxious about our companions who would be 
now crossing the pass. Conway and I lay 
in the tent reading for the eighth time an 
old copy of the " Three Musketeers," which 

11 



146 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

we had divided, and waited for the suu to 
come out. The men had begun to erect a 
great stone man, and worked as if they were 
building as great a tower as Babel. Certainly 
there was a confusion of tongues — Gurkha, 
Nagri, Yeshkun, Punjabi and Kashmir. They 
finished it by placing a great triangular 
pomted slab upright on the top, and naming 
the structure '■^ Kaneyioai SaJiib Ke Tamer ai,'' 




which, roughly interpreted means " Conway, 
sir, his mark." Shortly after fiuishing this 
work, Ali Shah, shivering and famished-look- 
ing, staggered into camp unable to speak, 
and raised our anxiety to fever pitch about 
the fate of Jack and Zurbriggen. Trying to 
shake the words out of him was no use, so 
yelling to the gaping servants to briug food 
and drink, we soon brought him round. 
" Where are the Sahibs ? " 



MIE AND HISPAE. 147 

'' Oh, Sahib, I am very ill." 

" Where are the Sahibs, you fool, and what 
brought you back ? " 

''Ah! Sahib." 

" Here, some of you speak to this old devil 
in his own tongue." 

So Shah Murat stepped forward and ques- 
tioned him. 

Jack and Zurbriggen, it seems, had followed 
him till they saw that they must be going 
wrong and had sent him back. 

Of course he told us that the Sahib said 
he was to have rupees. 

The truth, which we heard from Jack 
afterwards, was, that he had led them under 
some very dangerous, over-hangiDg ice, and 
gave a lot of trouble, the men insisting on 
following him instead of Zurbriggen. Even- 
tually, however, the men found Zurbriggen 
was right, and cursed Ali Shah and all his 
relations, and, leaving them, he returned to 
us in the state I have described. This was 
a nice indication of the knowledge Shah 
Murat possessed of the Hispar, and we 
watched him closer than ever as another 
letter arrived from the Eajah, whom we 
suspected of trying to intimidate our men, 
either with threats of his wrath if they went 



148 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

with us, or tales of the dangers of the pass 
communicated through Shah Murat. 

During our stay cooking of food for ten 
days was going on, as we expected to see 
no more wood for fire during that time. The 
native's food is very simple, consisting only 
of meal vv^ith water, some baking it in flat 
cakes on a small griddle over the fire, others 
wrapping the paste round a stone, making a 
ball of it, and cooking it in the ashes. But 
they looked strong, healthy men, the simple 
fare and open air life making them what 
they are. 

After killing and cooking as much mutton 
as could be easily added to the loads, and 
sending the goats back in charge of their 
herd, we left Haigutum on the third day, 
and making for the clear ice of the glacier, 
marched over its stream-ploughed, slippery 
surface. The coolies did not like it, but made 
for the stone-covered moraine whenever it was 
near enough. Their progress was very slow, 
whether from trying to detain us as long as 
possible on this side of the pass, to see if 
something would turn up to cause us to 
return, or from the uuaccustomed nature of 
the road, we did not know. 

We passed the opening of the ice-filled 



MIE AND HISPAE. 149 

valley leading to the Nnshik La, and saw 
its corniced and avalanche-swept ridge, and 
thought of the dangerous work our com- 
panions must have had to cross it in the, 
snow^storm. Making for the opposite bauk 
we got off the ice, and camped at the 
junction of the great side glacier wdth the 
Hispar. 



Continuing our journey next day, as we 
neared the pass snow-covered crevasses made 
the travelling very dangerous, but we got 
to a good camping ground at the side, on 
the bare spur of a mountain which cut into 
the glacier like a huge black wedge. Against 
its snout the ice broke in great masses and 
made long beautiful curves far out on the 
glacier in its flow round the obstruction. 

We were resting on some rocks while the 



150 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Gurkhas put up our tents, and Conway lay 
asleep with his turban over his eyes, when 
I noticed the coolies in earnest talk together, 
not making the usual preparations for the 
night. They looked in our direction, and 
were evidently anxious to speak to us. Shah 
Murat had retired from them a little way 
and sat on a rock, silent and alone. 

At last they persuaded two of the oldest 




of their party to take the lead. They came 
towards us, more shamefaced-looking than 
defiant, and some I noticed were grinning 
in the background ; but forming in a semi- 
circle around us, they all put up their hands 
in a prayer-like attitude, and waited for us 
to give them leave to speak. 

I sat silent for some time for fear of 
spoiling the picture, they looked so exactly 



MIE AND HISPAE. 151 

like old Gothic stone-carved saints from the 
niches of some grey cathedral, their long 
loose blankets hanging festooned to the 
gromid from their uplifted arms. A rare and 
fantastic group they made, standing on the 
dirty soft snow, the great dark ridges behind 
rising up into the clouds which eddied and 
flowed about their hidden summits. 

At last I asked them what they were 
pleased to require. 

"Ah, Sahib, the road is bad and we have 
no food." 

I remarked that they were a pack of liars, 
and that they had cooked food at Haigutum 
to last them ten days, by which time we 
should be at Askole, on the other side, where 
we would provide them with plenty. Their 
spokesman's Hindustani was about as good 
as mine, so we perfectly understood each 
other. I gave him a little English extra, 
and he gave me a little Yashkun, but his 
main cry was, that the road was bad and 
we should be lost, and all cried it in 
chorus. 

I told them to go away, and woke Conway 
up. He blessed me for waking him, and 
at his " Go, go," they went, most of the 
younger members laughing. 



152 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Shortly after, one of them espied figures 
far out on the glacier, and shouted " a letter 
from the Eajah," evidently thinking it would 
make us let them return to their homes, hut 
it turned out to be Zurhriggen and a coolie, 
who had made a marvellous march. Jack 
was all right, he had seen him safely on his 
way. 

That evening we gathered together the 
coolies and Shah Murat, and showing them 
our revolvers, which we explained to them 
contained the lives of ten men, told them 
that the first man who ventured to show 
signs of leaving us would be shot. We gave 
Shah Murat a special word of advice for 
himself, as we suspected him of causing all 
the trouble. 

Next morning we found that they had not 
cooked all the food required at Haigutum, 
and there being no wood for fire near 
us, this necessitated their returning there 
for it. 

Selecting ten of them after breakfast, we 
sent them off for the wood with instructions 
to be back that afternoon, allowing them no 
food, so that there would be no chance of 
them making a dash for Hispar. We settled 
down for the day, Conway working away at 



MIE AND HISPAE. 153 

his observations, while I sketched, and Zur- 
briggen mended boots for everybody. 

The men returned with the wood in a 
marvellously short time, when cooking went 
on with vigour, every one seeming in good 
spirits since the return of Zurbriggen. His 
coolie had evidently informed them of his 
wouderful skill, for they were prepared to 
follow him anywhere. 

The evening turned out one of the most 
beautiful we had witnessed. The icy faces 
of the mountains were lit up with the 
setting sun to the brilliancy of jewels, and 
later the whole valley was enveloped in a 
soft haze of golden sunlight, wonderful to 
behold. Sitting smoking on the rocks beside 
our tents, we watched it fade away into the 
grey silver night. 




^ ■- ^^^ 



CHAPTEE VII. 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLE. 



WE had no intention of crossing the pass 
next morning when we rose at 4 a.m., 
so we merely left instructions with Karbir 
and Eahim Ali to make for another dark 
spur across a great side glacier, and camp 
there. After breakfast Conway and I, with 
Zurbriggen and Harkbir, went out on to the 
glacier again for the remaining portion of the 
survey on this side, intending to make the 
passage of the pass early next morning. We 
found the snow crisp and hard and in splendid 
condition, and after we had almost finished 
our work we saw the coolies within hailing 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLE. 155 

distance on the glacier, as they had been 
obhged to come well on to it to get round 
the great side glacier, which forced its way 
far out into the main stream of ice. 

But all this time the pass, clear and cloud- 
less in snowy steps of sparkling splendour, 
invited us to attempt it, and determining 
there and then to cross it, we sent off Zur- 
briggen to find a way for the coolies. When 
Conway had finished his surveying, he and I, 
with Harkbir leading, put the rope on and 
followed in the coolies' track, making straight 
for the centre of the ice-fall. We were soon 
climbing the snowy intricacies of its icy 
galleries, resting midway up under the shade 
of a great cliff of ice, which was most beauti- 
fully coloured. We had a magnificent view 
of the whole Hispar valley, and of the distant 
ranges of Hunza peaks far away behind. On 
either side of me where I once sat for a rest, 
two fairy caverns hollowed out of great seracs, 
their emerald depths guarded by crystal cur- 
tains of huge icicles, and glittering like 
diamonds, made a fitting frame for so grand 
a picture. Continuing our climb up the ice- 
fall, we reached a gradually ascending snow- 
field. We were now at a height of 18,000 
feet, and the rarity of the atmosphere with 



156 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the fierce sun glare, thrown up from the 
white surface, which burned us with intense 
heat, made our chmb, as we ploughed through 
the loose snow of the track made by the 
coohes, a very toilsome one. Conway, who 
was eager to reach the col, untied himself 
and went on with Harkbir. Soon I was 
alone in the barren waste, where no sound 
broke the stillness of the vast solitude, for 
there was no life of any sort, bird or beast 
or vegetation ; only the long sweep of snow, 
bounded on each side by walls of ice with 
dark patches of steep rock, that emphasised the 
whiteness to an intense brilliance which the 
eye could not look on without the aid of 
dark glasses. 

At last I reached the top where the coolies 
were now all gathered together, eating or 
sleeping. Conway was working hard at his 
plane table, the Gurkhas had spread a water- 
proof sheet out, and were melting snow for 
drinking water in the rays of the sun, and 
Eahim Ali was preparing lunch with the same 
sang froid he would show in the bangla at 
Abbottabad. But the view on the other side 
held me spellbound. It looked like a vast lake, 
miles in extent, and of virgin whiteness, with 
buried mountains in its depths, their peaks 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLE. 157 

rising oufc of it liere and there like great stone 
men, and bounding it on all sides were snow 
mountains of enormous height. No opening 
was to be seen. Where, then, was the great 
glacier avenue corresponding to the Hispar ? 
Turning to Conway, I asked how we were 
going to get out of this ? He knew there 
must be an exit somewhere for this tremen- 
dous accumulation of snow ; but would it be 
an impassable ice-fall ? None of us could 
tell. Conway gave the order to start — I 
know it was with no light heart — and we 
prepared to descend the ice-fall below us to 
the snow lake. After a descent of about an 
hour on turning a corner, we suddenly saw 
the broad opening of the Biafo glacier, a wide, 
flat, unbroken sweep of white ice, with black 
masses of snow clouds rolling up to meet us. 
With lightened hearts we hurriedly looked 
around for a camping place, and found a very 
suitable one on the snow under the shelter 
of a bare rock cliff. I cannot help thinking- 
how most travellers in civilised countries 
would regard what we looked on as fair luck 
in the way of camps. It would probably 
seem a disaster of unequalled magnitude 
asking for pages of description. 

But we were all dead beat, and lay in our 



168 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

tents caring not what happened, so long as we 
were in shelter of a sort. A "self-cooking tin" 
was served out to each^no fire being possible, 
and, getting a flat stone, we set it on the 
floor of our tent, and lit the spirit lamp. It 
gave a little glow of comfort in our trying 
situation. 

Conway and Zurbriggen were terribly done 
up with working in the hot sun without 
rest. As I had taken it more leisurely I did 
not feel the fatigue so much, and looked 
out with awe at the terrible fog of snow, in 
which nothing was to be seen, which now 
swirled about us. Our little camp seemed 
mysteriously supported in space. I heard the 
low moans of the men who were huddled in 
the crannies of the rocks, wrapped in their 
warm blankets, for they were as frightened as 
children by phantoms of the air which they 
fearfully imagined. 

But as the grey darkened to night, in it 
I began to see mysterious mountain peaks 
glow with a beautiful radiance of pale pink, 
and faint blue deepening to purple. I thought 
I was dreaming, but no, there they were, 
most lovely visions which seemed to move 
with a curious motion in the driving mist of 
snow, isolated and vignetted in the dark. 



HISPAE Px\SS TO ASKOLE. 159 

The whole place was uncanny, the air was 
fall with spirits muttering angrily. 

I believed in them myself, and half reverted 
to the childlike condition of our poor coolies, 
and the next morning we were awakened 
by them informing us most lamentably that 
they were dying. A few cheery words from 
Conway soon set their minds at rest on this 
point, and they smiled and took up their 
burdens. The snow was still falling heavily, 
but the men were no less anxious than we 
to be on the way down. It cleared off after 
breakfast, so we roped up and started, and, 
Zurbriggen leading, we plunged through the 
soft snow past the foot of a great and very 
steep rock buttress, piled up like the pipes 
of some gigantic organ, the top being hidden 
in the clouds. By noon we were on the 
hard ice, and there we squatted down on 
the baggage and lunched. Then Conway 
plane-tabled, and I made pencil notes. The 
men were lying about on the ice, huddled up 
close to each other, eating their dry meal 
cakes, and drinking the glacier water as we 
did. Far down the broad flat ice-river we 
saw" a faint colour of green, and made directly 
for it. The ice was so level that the water 
did not run off but only about it in channels, 



160 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

covered over with another thin layer of ice 
through which we broke at every step. Our 
tempers were so sorely tried, that at last 
I suggested to Zurbriggen, who was leading, 
and just before me, that if he made for some 
higher ice at the side it might not be so wet 
there. Almost before I had finished speaking, 
without another word he plunged into a deep 
ice-river which was in front of us over the 
knee, and made for the side. I wished then 
that I had not spoken, but if I had to follow 
like a led sheep, I had the grim satisfaction 
of leading somebody after me. The stream 
was terribly cold, and the icy water filled 
our boots. The side was a little better, for 
it was a ridge of ice forced higher than the 
main level by side pressure from a tributary 
glacier. We rested here while Conway made 
another station for his survey, sending Karbir 
on with the coolies to fix up a camp on the 
first bit of green he came to. We leisurely 
followed after, surveying on the way. But 
the awful walking had taken all spirit out of 
us, and we were glad to turn into our tents. 
Though the whole scene was flooded with 
the most gorgeous sunset colours imaginable, 
sunsets just then were not even in my line. 
This experience, with the terrible exertion 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLB. 161 

we had gone through, told severely on all of 
us. My face was burnt and parched, the skm 
peeled off in great flakes, and every joint m 
my body ached. But I had a grand night's 
sleep, and when next morning I took charge 
of the coolies to look for a new camp, I felt 
none the worse for my exertions. 



Karbir, in his anxiety the day before to 
find a camp where there was some shrub, had 
gone too far down, and this had necessitated 
Conway retracing his steps to get the con- 
necting station for his map. He started for 
this work, accompanied by Zurbriggen and 

12 



162 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Harkbir, after giving me instructions to 
explore for a good camping ground with wood 
about. I pointed out to him a likely place 
which I had seen through the field-glasses, 
and said that he would probably find us there. 

Striking out over the crevasse and stone- 
covered glacier at the side we reached the 
clear ice. The men were now in good spirits 
and came along splendidly, for Conway had 
promised them a regular feast of plenty when 
we got to Askole. 

I have made no mention of Shah Murat, 
our so-called guide, who was absolutely use- 
less for any purpose whatever, for he knew 
nothing of the route, the country being as 
new to him as it was to us. However, he 
was some sort of ornament to the party as he 
wore a long black velvet coat. 

This day I had a pleasant march down, 
resting at frequent intervals. Karbir had 
attached himself to me, and attended me in 
my sketching excursions, carrying my traps, 
and learniug to make all the necessary pre- 
parations for work whenever I found a subject. 
He was a most delightful companion and very 
intelligent, and we spent many agreeable 
hours together ; he was always cheery, and 
laughed at all difiiculties. 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLE. 163 

We found a good camping ground at the 
place I had selected before starting, for 
it was in a beautifal grass-covered hollow, 
beside a still lake at the side of the glacier, 
with plenty of shrub for fire to make tea. 
Conway did not turn up about the usual time, 
so I sent men out to look for him, as the 
moraine hid the camp. After an hour's wait 
he came in very mad, for I had gone too far 
also, and he would have to return up the 
glacier again next day. He could not even 
console himself with a smoke, but as we were 
so near Askole, Zurbriggen volunteered to go 
there and send up supplies, more especially 
tobacco. We had been withoat it since we 
left Hispar, and our only substitute was the 
dirty fibrous root E,ahim Ali had for his 
water pipe. It was entirely devoid of all 
taste or smell of nicotine, but it made a 
smoke and killed flies. It seems a wonder 
it did not kill us ; the smell, at any rate, was 
strong enough. 

Zurbriggen left us next morning. I had 
been in pain from aching joints all night, and 
Conway had a touch of fever, so we were 
utterly unable to do anything all day. The 
evening effects, however, drew me out with my 
paint-box, and I managed to make a sketch. 



164 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

We had another bad night of unrest, but 
work must be got on with, so Conway and I 
went out and toiled as best we could. We 
met coolies, sent by Bruce, camped on the 
other side of the glacier. Had the survey 
been completed in that direction the day 
before we should never have seen them, nor 
they us, and heaven alone knows where they 
would have wandered to in that case. 

We had bad weather next morning, but it 
cleared up later. Eeturning down the glacier, 
looking for the new camp, we met two more 
coolies with Mltas sent up by Zurbriggen. 
They also were wandering away into the 
unknown, looking neither to the right hand 
or the left. We made them lower their 
baggage at once, and, as we expected, found 
tobacco ; we had a pipe each, and the luxury 
of it was divine. We had been in very bad 
tempers, Conway especially so, as the coolies 
must have gone too far down again, but we 
forgave them as we should never have seen 
these men but for their error. 

But one part of our journey was nearly 
done, and three more days' weary trudging 
and sliding and scrambling brought us to the 
pleasant shade of mulberry and apricot-trees. 
We received the cheery greetings of the 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLE. 



165 



natives of Askole, and once more we had 
luxuries in abundance. 

We found Bruce, Zurbriggen, and Ecken- 
stein here, but no Jack. We had letters from 
him, and, as we expected, he was making for 
Srinagar again, and would wait for us there 




till we had done fooling round, trying to 
break our necks in the hills, which he cursed 
freely and most effectively. 

During our stay at Askole many things 
were seen to, for the extra luggage sent from 
Srinagar had arrived. New arrangements of 
equipment were prepared,. all our collections 



166 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

of geological and botanical specimens re- 
arranged, new coolies engaged, and the Nagyr 
ones dismissed. 

For a time here we had a new companion, 
for Captain Chmxher arrived. He had been 
shikaring in the district. We had a sing-song 
that evening, accompanied by the banjo, on 
which he was an excellent performer. We 
had also a meeting of the members of the 
expedition. Many things were discussed, our 
past successes and our future plans. Ecken- 
stein was to return, it being impossible for 
him to continue further with us, ill-health 
and other causes arising to prevent him. 

The villagers had their usual band and 
dances to entertain us, and we revelled in 
plenty. But chiefly we devoted ourselves 
to baths, and to strutting round in the new 
clothes which replaced our mountain rags and 
tatters. Zurbriggen in the meantime turned 
to the mending of innumerable pairs of boots. 
We had a good time, too, with letters, and 
sent off many claTxS with return corres- 
pondence. 

The change after so many days of hardship 
was indescribable, and we all revelled in the 
joy of it. But a more arduous undertaking 
was before us, though we knew it not. Yet 



HISPAE PASS TO ASKOLE. 167 

all preparations were made to meet every 
possible difficulty, by the forethought of our 
leader, whom we all obeyed with a trust born 
of entire confidence in the ability which we 
now knew so well. 



CHAPTEE YIII. 

ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THRONE. 

OUR party was now rather a large one, for 
it consisted of Conway, Bruce, Zur- 
briggen, and myself, together with four 
Grnrkhas, three servants, and seventy coolies. 
We had also ten Lambadhars, who left us 
after the first march, and twenty sheep, 
twelve goats, and Bruce's dog, Pristi. 

On starting from Askole, we retraced our 
way to the Biafo glacier, and had a hard 
scramble over its stone-covered snout. On 
reaching the other side we came across a big 
lake, made by an embankment of rocks. The 
road — if it can be called one — led over this 
dam, which was pierced and cut by many 
fast-running streams. It looked by no means 
an inviting way. 

After some consideration, Zurbriggen and 
the coolies decided to keep round the glacier 

1G8 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THRONE. 169 

edge — a much longer route, involving many 
nasty climbs — while we determined to ford 
the streams. The first of them, and the 
worst, Bruce plunged into at once and 
waded across, though the water was waist 
high, and I followed him. Conway thought 
to get over dry on Bruce's back, and 
Bruce came over again ; but shortly after 
they entered the water, being then in the 
deepest place, the current became too strong 
for them, and happening to step on a moving 
stone, they nearly fell down. So Conway got 
as good a wetting as any of us. The sun was 
so burning hot that our clothes were almost 
dry before we reached the next stream. But 
this was pretty nearly as bad as the first and 
running rapidly, the stones rolling over and 
over on the bottom with the strength of the 
current. Harkbir was nearly swept away, but 
Bruce, who happened to be in the middle, 
caught him under his arms as he came down 
stream. I had forgotten the contents of my 
pockets, and hurriedly clearing them out, 
found my sketch-book in a very damp con- 
dition, while the valuable cigarette papers 
which Jack had sent me from Scardu were 
soaking. Carefully separating them, I spread 
them out on a rock, and gathered them up 



170 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

dry almost immedia.tely, the sun's heat was 
so great. The rest were carefully doing the 
same with any little perishable article which 
had got damaged. 

By this time Zurbriggen came up with 
us, so we all had a rest and a smoke, and 
dried our clothes and sweated in the sun. 

We had a more exciting time on our next 




march, having to cross a rope bridge over the 
Punmah river. This, with our numerous 
caravan, occupied much time. 

The bridge had been newly repaired, and 
the leaves having been left on the twigs gave 
it a gay and festive appearance. The coolies 
got their loads over one at a time at first, but 
later on three or four dared to cross at once. 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 171 

It was very amusing to watch the expression 
on their faces as they made their way across, 
doubt and fear giving place to an expression 
of happy accomphshment when they stood on 
firm land again. But as the sheep and goats 
had to be carried over the men returned, and, 
tying each a sheep or a goat in his blanket 
with the head out, strapped them over their 
shoulders. The curious face of the man and 
the blank expression on the sheep's beside it 
were most laughable. Pristi was brought 
over in the same way, and his bark of relief 
when he arrived expressed in a very human 
manner his satisfaction that such a peculiar 
experience was over. 

We camped at the side of a small brook 
running down to the river, and very stupidly 
on the wrong side, as we found out next day 
when we prepared to start. Some glacier 
lake had evidently burst its bounds in the 
night, and in the morning we found our 
rivulet a swollen, roaring torrent. It was 
increasing in volume every minute, and the 
sooner we made the passage across it the 
better. The men tried forming a causeway 
by throwing rocks in, but they were swept 
away as if they floated. 

At last Bruce entered and managed to 



172 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

scramble over, and I followed next. I found 
the whole bottom a moving chaos of rocks, 
but got across wet to the waist. I shouted 
to Zurbriggen to get the climbing rope, and 
Harkbir and I caught the end of it, and so 
made a life-line to which the men could cling. 
Some of them stripped themselves of their 
nether covering, but most got in as they saw 
us do. It was very difficult to keep the rope 
in our hands, for the men followed one 
another on it, and our shouting to allow only 
one at a time could not be heard above the 
roar of the torrent. Bruce finally returned 
and placed a Gurkha on a rock above the 
water to regulate them, and commenced him- 
self to carry over the sheep under his arm. 
He tried to carry two at once at first, and 
would have got swept away sheep and all but 
for Karbir, so that one at a time had to 
satisfy him, strong as he was. A few of the 
more enterprising coolies carried some across, 
but I believe Bruce took half of them over. 
The men's faces were a study, for some of 
them were swept off their feet, and hung 
on to the rope with only their heads above 
water till a Gurkha went to help them in. 
They were like a lot of children — wild 
with fear one minute, and laughing at their 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 173 

companions the next. But all were safely 
landed, and we continued our journey water- 
ing the way with dripping garments. I know 
now that it should be an axiom with all 
travellers to cross any stream they camp at. 




It can in no case do harm, and may save 
infinite labour and risk. 

The valleys were now narrower and the 
mountains higher and steeper than any we 
had been through ; the whole place was 



174 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

dismal and impicturesque in the extreme, and 
the walking most laborious. We came to 
fans ribbed with hmidreds of gullies from five 
to thirty feet deep, too broad to jump across, 
and each rib had to be climbed over. Some 
were so steep that rough steps had to be cut 
to enable us to get up them. We trudged 
round the wide circle of these, hoping for a 
clear level by the river side^ but our road only 
became worse and worse, and rock faces 
whose sides were swept by the rushing river 
had to be negotiated on very insecure foot- 
hold. We came then to great sand shoots 
that the first step made move, and one's feet 
were buried over the boots and held there like 
suckers, so that it was a job to reach the 
other side and not be taken down bodily to 
the river. 

We arrived at a place the natives called 
Bardumal, and waited under the shelter of 
the rocks for the coolies, who were far behind. 
The next day we entered the Baltoro valley, 
and ploughed over the sandy bank of the 
river amongst low shrubs, where many rabbits 
were started. The Gurkhas enjoyed an 
amusing tim.e chasing them, but they had no 
success. The road here led over a high parri 
on rough wooden terraces built by the natives 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 175 

up cracks in the rock's face, then down again 
to the river and over broad, rusty-coloured 
fans of debris to the snout of the glacier, 
where we found a beautifal little grove of 
thorny trees amongst high grass. Bruce and 
I beat about with our ice-axes, in case any 
reptile might lurk in it, before we threw our- 
selves into its cool, soft embrace. 

The great mass of the glacier filled the 
valley from side to side, cutting off the bases 
of the two mighty ranges of lofty peaks which 
bordered its avenue. The rushing torrent 
from beneath it carried off great boulders of 
rock with a force that made the ground 
beneath us vibrate as we lay in our tents. 

We remained here the next day for our 
men to get all their j^abas ready. We needed 
a rest before we entered upon the ice. 

A cry of alarm that we were going to be 
swept away was raised in the evening. A 
great mass of ice had broken off the glacier 
with a tremendous crash, and forced the 
waters to the side, almost overwhelming our 
camp, but fortunately doing no damage. 

I spent the day sketching the views down 
and up the valley, for they were scenes of 
great desolation, most impressive in their 
grandeur and solitude. 



176 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



We had terrible work of it getting over the 
surface of the Baltoro glacier on our first day. 
We were ten hours jumping from one rock to 
another and clambering up great stone- 
covered ice-hills, often to find when we got 
to the top that the other side was a steep, 
perpendicular face of clear, black ice. This, 
of course, meant scrambling down again, 
though we were sometimes spared that 




trouble by the whole surface of rubble 
starting of its own accord and carrying us 
with it. As we were all of us looking for 
an easier way, we soon lost sight of each 
other, and, indeed, an army might have been 
marching on the other side of the glacier and we 
should not have known it, so great in extent 
and so unequal in its surface is the great 
valley of ice. We came across each other at 
intervals resting, but we were so hot and 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 177 

angry that our words of greeting were few. 
When we saw Conway now and again, we 
asked him when and where he was going to 
camp. It seemed likely that he might not 
know in such a hole. And now rain began 
to come down in torrents, and we were still 
in the centre of the glacier. 

At last we reached a great lake with small 
icebergs, like a miniature Arctic Ocean, and 
we sat on a big wall of ice overlooking it, 
amusing ourselves by starting the rocks 
thundering down upon its shore. We camped 
here. It seemed Hobson's choice, for night 
was coming on, and we were all pretty well 
fagged out. The tents were pitched on a 
surface of stones to keep our bodies from the 
ice, and we folded the blankets as small as we 
could to make our beds a little softer. A 
trench was chipped out of the ice round the 
tents to keep as much of the rain from 
coming in as possible ; and then, vainly 
seeking for a soft hollow for our hip-bones, 
sleep overtook us, and the grumblings of the 
poor coolies sheltering themselves under rocks 
and in hollows of ice were lost to us. 

The rain was still falling in the morning, 
but as it cleared up after breakfast, we deter- 
mined to find a softer camp for our next 

13 



178 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

pitcti, for the night had not been over happy 
or comfortable. 

During this day we had the same weary 
stone-hopping, which was only varied by 
glissades down slanting walls of ice. Bruce 
lost us during the day, and did not turn up 
when we had camped — this time in a sandy 
hollow — so we sent out men to look for him. 
For he might have been in the next dip of 
the ice and have never found us. Our yells 
at last reached him and brought him to us. 

Again it commenced to pour, and the great 
mountains disappeared in the moving banks 
of cloud, and misery and disgust at the 
weather made us irritable with everythiug. 
As for me, my paints got dirty and my paper 
wet when I had nearly finished a sketch. 
Bat a good night's sleep found us in better 
spirits next morning, though the weather did 
everything in its power to damp them. Here 
I began to suffer the pains of toothache, and 
as there were no dentists in our party, I had 
to grin and bear it all the time I was on the 
glacier. This, added to the other miseries of 
the place, made my life rather wearisome to me. 

The Baltoro has many sins to answer for. 
Our lives were made miserable and our legs 
a burden. " Oh, for the wings of a dove " to 










J 



180 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

fly, just for a day, was our constant prayer. 
Things which might have made me laugh in 
more comfortable circumstances entirely lost 
their humour. At one time I had found a 
better path than Bruce, who was in sight, 
and he tried to reach me. I watched him 
making his way in the most careful manner 
up a high, stone-covered hill of ice, and I 
speculated in a peculiarly cold and curious 
mood as to whether he would do it or not. 
He neared the top slowly and carefully, and 
then there was a crash like a bomb exploding; 
the whole thing seemed to burst and go 
rattling down together — he had stepped on 
the keystone of the lot. I saw him lying 
at the bottom of the hill he had so carefully 
climbed, on the top of the offending rock, 
embracing it with his arms, and hammering 
it with his fists. I did not hear the endearing 
words which I knew he was uttering, and I 
did not laugh, but passed on my way. I had 
been through it myself, and could not even 
smile. Still it had been interesting. 

This day we had the additional misery of 
heavy raio, and we crouched in undignified 
attitudes under low supported rocks, and 
swore deeply until it seemed futile to swear 
any more. 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 181 



We stopped the whole of the next day at 
our camping ground as the weather was 
simply abominable. We made " caches " of 
half the stores, and sent home half the 
coolies, and amused ourselves by writing 
our names in great letters of sanguinary tint 
on the faces of the rocks. 

The clouds still hid the peaks and filled the 




great hollows of the valley, and we had no 
view of the mighty giants we knew we were 
amongst. But we caught glimpses of their 
towering heights now and again through 
openings in the moving mass of vapour. It 
was, however, not so misty as to prevent us 
doing a little exploring, and Conway and I, 
with Harkbir, this day found a possible way 



182 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

at the side of the ice. During our prowl we 
came across and brought in two pairs of ibex 
horns, whose owners had evidently been killed 
by avalanches. 

During the march I saw one thing which 
was very curious and beautiful. I had 
amused myself on the way collecting the 
butterflies, which every now and again would 
flutter out from some mysterious garden 
which I could not find in this world of ice. 
However, I came at last to a little patch of 
green with a peculiar iridescent blue shade 
shimmering through it, and on stepping upon 
it only for the luxury of one short moment 
free from the toil of the rocks, I was en- 
veloped in a cloud of little blue butterflies. 
The sensation was delightful, and accounted 
for the peculiar colour on the grass. 

In the evening the clouds passed away, and 
once more we saw the grand outlines of the 
great peaks n gainst the eveuing sky. 

Next day Conway and Bruce, with Zur- 
briggen and three Gurkhas, accomplished the 
first great climb of the expedition, and also 
settled the point we wished to reach at the 
end of our journey up the glacier, I stayed 
in camp to try and recover some of the sleep 
lost in my fits of severe toothache and head- 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 183 



ache. During the affcernoon Gofara, a Kash- 
mir cooKe of Bruce's, arrived from Scardu, 
having been sent there from Askole with a 
parcel of papers, letters, and also " The Pic- 
tures of the Year," with which I had a unique 
afternoon. Karbir was employed cooking for 
his companions, but I was very much amused 








with his comments oq the pictures when he 
came to my tent. His tastes were classical, 
and the female form his delight ; he roared 
with laughter at every picture of the nude, 
and examined it up and down, not forgetting 
to look at the other side of the leaf for a view 
of her back. The mountaiaeeiing party re- 
turned during this incident, and while wel- 



184 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

coming and congratulating Conway on his 
success, we were startled by the loud laughter 
of the Gurkhas. Karbir had taken his com- 
panions to the academy, and evidently their 
tastes were alike. 

We made a short march next day to a place 
we named White Fan Camp, from the colour 
of the dchris of which it was composed. 
There we had a grand view of the mountain 
which Conway intended climbing. It cer- 
tainly was most beautiful in form, and its 
throne-like shape, covered with a snowy 
mantle, suggested many names, as The 
Throne of Asia, from its situation; and The 
Vacant Throne, from its emptiness. It was 
named the White Throne, which it retained 
till we reached it and found it veined with 
gold, when it was immediately called The 
Golden Throne. The glacier which came 
from it we named the Throne glacier. 

Bruce, Zurbriggen, and two Gurkhas, went 
off up the Throne glacier the morning after 
our arrival in White Ean Camp to select a 
route to the top of the Golden Throne. Con- 
way and I, with two Gurkhas, started at the 
same time for a climb to the col at the top of 
White Fan glacier behind the camp, whence 
we expected to have had a grand view of K2, 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 185 

the mountain of our desires. We had an 
uneventful climb up a steep moraine to some 
nasty seracs, through which we made our way 
to an easily inclined snow-field that led us to 
the col. The view of K2, its rough, galleried 
peak being alone visible, was very disappoint- 
ing ; but looking back across the Baltoro 
glacier, from which we had ascended, the 
most magnificent mountain landscape imagi- 
nable presented itself. It was composed of 
valleys with glittering ice walls, their sides 




ribbed with avalanche tracks, and away in the 
hot, hazy distance, peak after peak topped and 
overtopped each other in bright tones of pure 
pearl. It was, I think, one of the grandest 
views we had in the mountains. 

When I had done some sketches, and Con- 
way had added some more important points to 
his map, we descended, making for the centre 
of the glacier to escape from the stones which 
had started falliDg through the heat of the 
sun. 

We soon reached camp, and I revelled in a 



186 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

glorious evening of colour, sketching, as Con- 
way remarked, like one possessed. 

We left White Fan Camp next morning, 
and, striking oat across the awfal stones once 
more, we reached the junction of the Throne 
and K2 glaciers with the Baltoro. We then 
made for a level belt of medial moraine, com- 
posed of flatter and smaller stones, having an 
easy march to a spot we selected for the camp, 
from which we knew a good view of K'2 could 
be obtained when once the rolling banks of 
clouds had passed away. Just then, however, 
the whole valley on that side, with the great 
peaks, was completely hidden, and we could 
only remain and wait for better weather. 
Conway swore that if he should wait till 
Doomsday he would photograph K2 and I 
should paint it. The afternoon of our arrival 
we waited with paint-box and camera ready 
for the first glimpse of the great giant, but 
were rewarded only with glimpses of sunlit 
rock and ice through the sweeping clouds. In 
the evening the mists sank low over the ice 
valleys, and K'2, dark and impressive, stood 
far above them against the silvery glow of the 
evening sky, a very king of mountains among 
its stately companions. It was too late for 
photographs and too dark to paint, so after 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 187 

making a pencil drawing we turned in for the 
night, which seemed Ukely to be a bad one 
from the threatening character of the weather. 
As it turned out we had to spend four more 
nights in this dreary camp. 

After our tent was pitched the coohes were 
sent back to bring up suppHes, while the 
Gurkhas set to and built themselves a stone 




hut, roofing it with a mackintosh sheet, and 
very comfortable quarters they made. A thin 
layer of small stones was laid under the floor 
of our tent, but it was far from comfortable, 
though we spread everything we could under- 
neath us.' On awakening in the morning we 
found the side of our tent sagged in till it 
almost touched our faces, for it was borne 
down by the heavy snow which had fallen 



188 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

during the night. We shivered in anticipa- 
tion as we opened the tent door. What a 
sight it was ! The whole glacier and all the 
mountains were covered with new snow. 
Drifting masses of cloud climbed and rolled 
over the ice surface, while higher clouds 
swept along the mountains, hiding and re- 
A^ealing the peaks again and again. 

We were now far from anything that would 
burn, and at last we had to draw on our small 
supply of paraffin for the stove for breakfast. 
We at any rate managed to get a cup of hot 
tea. 

About an hour afterwards Shabano, a shikari 
of Bruce's, who hadta.ken charge of the coolies, 
put his head in the tent, having arrived in 
advance to tell us that four or five of the men 
were ill. Ten minutes later I saw them 
dragging their loaded, weary, bent forms 
through the snow to the camp. When they 
reached it they immediately sat down and 
cried in the most exasperating manner like a 
lot of babies, more, however, from fear of the 
vengeance of the fairies and goblins of the 
mountains than from anything else, for we 
were in the country which had long been to 
them an uncanny land. 

Harkbir took charge of them and gave them 





-S'y 7. 



i'l^^ 




"ty 



190 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

instructions how to build a hut, and when 
we promised the floor of our tent for a roof 
they soon got it completed, huddling in 
together like a lot of sheep. But they com- 
menced to cry out again as the snow once 
more came sweeping around us. The evening 
certainly looked dreary and awful; and the 
rumble of falling avalanches booming in dull 
vibrations through the dark grey mist, was 
mingled with the low, moaning cry of the 
men who accompanied the prayer to Allah of 
one old man who stood up and faced the 
storm. 

The heat of our bodies through our sleeping 
bags without the waterproof covering had 
melted the ice on which we were lying, and 
in consequence we found ourselves rather 
damp in the morning. It was still snowing 
when we were awakened by Eahim Ali with 
some hot tea, but it cleared for an hour or 
two, and I was able to get a sketch. I 
returned to the camp again just as Bruce 
and Zurbriggen arrived, having come down 
for food, as their supplies had run short. 

All four of us were now crowded in one 
tent, and as we had all got everything warm 
we possessed on us, it made rather a close fit. 
We read and chatted and smoked till the 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 191 

atmosphere was so thick one could cut it 
with a knife, and then we dined dimly by the 
light of a candle stuck on a lantern. 

As soon as that function was over we 
arranged ourselves tightly for the night and 
sleep, if, indeed, sleep would come in such 
close quarters. 

During the night it cleared up, and the 
snow-covered glacier sparkled and gleamed in 
the bright morning sunlight as Bruce and 
Zurbriggen started off to their high camp 
with fresh supplies. Then the snow com- 
menced again. 

Daily relays of coolies were sent to the 
caches to bring up supplies, and one party 
for firewood and sheep. They arrived two 
days after with no more than a handful each, 
having used it on the way to keep themselves 
warm ; and as Eahim Ali had found the 
paraffin stove a comfort in his tent, he had 
burned it day and night, and used up all the 
oil. 

We danced with rage on coming in from a 
hard day's work in a bitter cold wind to find 
this out, and we did not know which to com- 
mence on first. Eventually, however, five of 
the worst coolies were sent down with orders 
not to come back without full loads. After 



192 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

going about a hundred yards across the ice 
they sat down, but skipped off quickly when I 
fired a revolver in their direction. 

I was amused during this incident with the 
behaviour of the two sheep, a white one and 
a black one. They had been on the march 
up for two days without anything to eat, and 
I suppose, naturally enough expected some- 
thing at the end. After prospecting round, 
and finding nothing softer than the firewood, 
which they tried to nibble, they consulted 
together and started for home, the white one 
leading, in the most determined manner. 
They had got well away before any one knew 
it, and to see those two sheep making a bee 
line for the Baltoro over the wide waste of 
snow, with a Balti coolie after them, was a 
most laughable sight ; but back they were 
brought, and soon were mutton. 

This day had been the best we had since 
our arrival here, and enabled us to get all the 
views we needed, so on the morrow we started 
for the Golden Throne and our companions 
who were on ahead. A fairly level and direct 
road up the glacier brought us to their tent. 
Our tents were erected at the very foot of the 
Golden Throne, amoDgst great boulders of 
rock, and the camp was named Footstool 



ASKOLE TO THE GOLDEN THEONE. 193 

Camp. This was to be our headquarters, 
from which an attempt was to be made on the 
peak. The weather had turned out most 
glorious. A bright, hot sun during the day 
was followed by a hard frost at night, so that 
we had every prospect of being successful. 




14 



CHAPTEE IX. 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 



BEUCE and Zurbriggen had not been able, 
on account of bad weather, to find a way 
through the ice-fall, which had to be ascended 
to reach the arete leading to the top of the 
Golden Throne. So the morning after our 
arrival at Footstool Camp, they started off 
with two G-urkhas to make another attempt. 
Conway and I stayed in camp and wrote ; I 
sketched, too, when the heat and a headache 
permitted. The climbing party returned after 
lunch, with the report of another failure ; for 
the seracs were the worst that Zurbriggen 
had ever met with. The next day was spent 
assisting Conway at his survey. The heat 
was terrible, and our heads were so awfnl that 
every one was in a vile temper. However, in 
the evening I went out to make a sketch. I 
had hardly commenced before my paint-box 
was shooting for a crevasse and I after it ; 

194 



PIONEER PEAK TO ASKOLE. 195 

luckily I caught it before it was beyond 
recovery, and started once more. I had got 
the subject sketched in and was floating on 
the first wash of colour, when it turned to 
lovely ice forms; before I had covered the 
paper the water I was painting with was a 
quarter of an inch thick in the cup. The 
result was very unsatisfactory. While in 
these regions I found it impossible to paint 
after the sun had sunk behind the hills, and 
as they were so very high, it was soon even- 









■^<W< 




ing. When the sun disappeared the tempera- 
ture immediately dropped about one hundred 
degrees. In the sun the dazzle of the snow 
was terrible on the eyes, and we continually 
wore glasses. I had, of course, to take off 
mine when sketching, but I always felt the 
effects afterwards. 

On August 21st we commenced the great 
ascent of the Golden Throne ice-fall, up which 
Zurbriggen had failed to find a way. We had 
to carry loads ourselves as the coolies were 



196 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

utterly useless, nothing would tempt them to 
go with us ; they had tried one on Bruce's 
first ascent, but at the first crevasse his knees 
gave way with fear and he was sent back. 

We found the snow hard and in good con- 
dition, and soon reached the maze of seracs 
where Bruce and Zurbriggen were stopped on 
their ascent. Turning off in the direction 
opposite to that which Zurbriggen had tried, 
we found a way among great walls of ice and 
over snow-covered bridges spanning dark green 
gulfs of enormous depth. One of these bridges 
gave way with me while I was on it. Conway 
and Zurbriggen had got over all right, I was 
next on the rope and on the centre of the 
bridge, when suddenly, with a great crash, it 
went thundering down into the black depths 
far below. The rope attached to Harkbir, who 
was behind, allowed me to fall against the 
opposite wall of ice, where I hung suspended, 
my nose close up to its cold surface, and the 
wind all knocked out of me by the tightening 
of the rope round my chest. My companions 
stood firm while I reached up to the edge of 
the crevasse, and cleared away the overhang- 
ing snow, which tumbled down my neck and 
gave me cold shivers. Throwing my axe and 
hat up, I pulled myself up by the rope, and 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 197 

getting a leg over the edge, was soon on firm 
ice again. 

Harkbir Lad next to cross, so getting well 
away from the edge to the full length of the 
rope that attached us, I shouted to him to 
jump. My Hindustani was not of sufficient 
clearness to explain to him that when he was 
in the air I would haul him to safety. Never- 
theless he jumped and my timely pull landed 
him sprawling on the edge, from which he got 




up with his usual broad smile that wrinkled 
every muscle on his face in knobs hke chest- 
nuts. Bruce and the other Gurkhas who 
were behind found a new way over. Farther 
on up this terrible jumble of cold death-traps, 
Zarbriggen saw a fine broad plateau of snow, 
leading to the foot of the arete which he tried 
to get to, but between us and the smooth 
surface was a badly-broken portion of the 
glacier, which fell, like a broad cascade to 



198 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the main ice-fall up wliicli we were climbing 
in jagged seracs of enormous size, leaving 
great gaps between very insecurely bridged. 
Climbing the outer wall of a great ice cavern 
to get over this, Zurbriggen managed to crawl 
over the roof on his stomach, and Conway 
after him, without breaking through. I came 
next, but though I v/ent as carefully as a cat, 
part of it gave way. At the same time Zur- 
briggen informed us it was impossible to go 
any further in that direction as there were 
difficulties in front we could not surmount. 
So we had to turn back again : and after 
a short consultation together we determined 
to make for a fairly broad platform of snow- 
covered ice near us, and camp there till next 
day, while Zurbriggen and the Gurkhas re- 
turned for the provisions which had been left 
lower down. 

This night we were in a curious and hazar- 
dous situation, camped on a great serac which 
might move at any minute, and surrounded 
by crevasses seen and unseen. If any of us 
had to leave the tent, we were roped to some 
one else, and allowed to walk around like a 
tethered donkey. 

Zurbriggen aud the Gurkhas having re- 
turned with the provisions, we all settled 



y>4 



■A ■ !\ 



T-/.Ff5! 



■'50 









m 



.V- 










^i> 



•V 






200 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

down to get what rest and sleep we could in 
such circumstances and after such toil. 

Early the next morning Bruce and Zur- 
briggen found a way on to the upper plateau, 
and returned to us. Bruce and the Gurkhas 
went back to the main camp for further pro- 
visions and some articles necessary for our 
comfort in such a trying position, and were to 
return to us next day. After they had gone, 
Zurbriggen and I shouldered loads and made 
for the new camping ground. The whole way 
was dangerous, the ice bridges in many places 
were very frail, and in some cases fell just 
after we were off them, but we reached the 
place and left our loads, and returned to Con- 
way. After our return a slight fall of snow 
occurred, and we lay and did nothing as we 
found that was the most comfortable occu- 
pation. For at this height, 18,200 feet, work 
that necessitated exertion of any kind, such 
as taking off one's boots, or even sitting up 
when we had been lying down, left us gasping 
like fish out of water. 

Conway decided not to start till next day 
for the new camp. That night I had a horrible 
time with toothache, and felt quite unfit for 
any climbing next morning, but nevertheless 
we all loaded up with as much as we could 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 201 

carry, and on reaching the place, Conway and 
I set lip the tents while Zurbriggen and the 
two Gurkhas returned for the remainder of 
the baggage. Immediately our attention was 
withdrawn from the camp-fixing arrangements, 
it was directed to the fact that we had no 
sensation in our feet, so we both squatted 
down, and taking off our boots and stockings 
commenced rubbing our livid feet and toes 
with snow. It took about half an hour of this 
work to get them right again, gasping all the 
time for breath, though we didn't waste much 
in talking. Now and again one of us would 
say, "No, not yet," in answer to the other's 
question if he felt any sensation of life ; but 
even so much talk was unnecessarily exhaust- 
ing. 

Zurbriggen soon returned, and shortly after 
Bruce, with Karbir and four coolies (whom he 
had with great difficulty persuaded to accom- 
pany him), and the dog, Pristi, appeared on 
the scene with many good things. We man- 
aged to make a cup of chocolate with the 
melted snow, on our little spirit stove, and 
I felt infinitely better afterwards. The coolies 
and Pristi were sent down again. It was 
frightfully hot in our tent, something over 
one hundred degrees, and headache made it- 



202 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

self felt again. In the night it dropped to 
nine or ten degrees below freezing point. 

Next morning Conway and I, with Zur- 
briggen and two Gurkhas, continued our way 
upwards to make another camp with one tent, 
leaving Bruce behind, who was not at all well 
after his exertion of the day before. The slope 
to the foot of the arete was of steep, hard, 
frozen snow, and with our climbing irons we 
were able to ascend without the labour of 
cutting steps. The effects of the air, or rather 
want of air, were felt still more at this height, 
which was now 20,000 feet. Again Conway's 
feet and mine were frost-bitten and had to be 
attended to, and the labour of rubbing here 
was simply terrible. None of us was able to 
do anything during the day; though Conway 
managed to write his diary by fits and starts. 
Zurbriggen and the Gurkhas descended for 
the rest of the food which we had been unable 
to carry up on the first journey. When Zur- 
briggen returned to us he too was dead beat 
and could not utter a word for some ininutes. 

He told us that Bruce and the Gurkhas 
would join us in the morning for the attack 
on the peak. I made a few pencil sketches 
in the evening ; but very early we rolled our- 
selves up in our bags, being determined to get 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 203 

as much rest and sleep as possible. At about 
2 a.m., however, Bruce and the Gurkhas were 
heard outside. They were greatly fatigued and 
frost-bitten, and as it was impossible for them 
to remain there, the thermometer standing at 
16° Fahrenheit, the whole lot had to get into 
the tent. With seven inside such a small bit 
of canvas, it was utterly impossible for us to 
have any comfort at all. My toothache and 
headache were so bad that I determined to 
remain in camp and not take part in the great 
ascent, for fear of breaking down and spoiling 
the climb. 

The party left at six o'clock, and I was 
alone and fortunately able to get some sleep. 
In the afternoon I made a sketch of a fine 
subject of snow and ice, looking across the 
main ice-fall to Kondus saddle, but my eyes 
were fearfully sore with the terrible glare of 
the sun on the snow, which fairly made my 
head reel. I devoted the remainder of the 
day to melting snow in the sun for my com- 
panions to drink when they returned. 

About half past six in the evening I saw 
tiny little specks moving along the top of the 
w4iite ridge, and then a confused flying mass 
of snow and men, for they had glissaded down 
the remaining slope to the near tent, and I 



204 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

was soon congratulating them on the success 
which they had attained. 

They had reached a peak measuring nearly 
23,000 feet, the highest ever climhed, and had 
named it Pioneer Peak, but had not succeeded 
in reaching the top of the Golden Throne. 
Bruce and the Gurkhas went on down to their 
tents, and Conway, Zurbriggen, and I, were 



4 






left alone to sleep the nearest, I suppose, to 
heaven of any living creature on the earth. 
The greatest of our work had been done and 
no matter what lay before us, we knew it 
would be workiDg homewards. 

The two Gurkhas came up in the morning, 
and we each bundled up our belongings and 
slung them on our backs, the Gurkhas taking 
the tent and instruments. The slope down 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 205 

to Bruce looked very enticing, so I sat down 
to glissade; but the frozen nature of it de- 
veloped a speed I did not like, and the sight 
of a crevasse, for which I seemed to be making 
at runaway speed, made it dawn on me that 
I had better put on a brake of some sort. 
Tryiug to do so with my axe resulted in 
turning me sideways, and my efforts to get 
into a correct position again only resulted in 
torn hands and clothes. I landed, a very 
mixed quantity, in a snow-heap near the 
dangerous hole. Harkbir tried the same 
game, with the same result ; Zurbriggen, of 
course, came down in grand style on his feet, 
and Conway after him. 

. The terrible journey down from this to 
Footstool Camp I shall never forget, for we 
did not start until the sun was well up, when 
the snow was soft and the ice-bridges in a 
most rotten condition. We all had heavy 
loads, too ; and, as some of the old bridges 
had fallen clean away, new ones had to be 
found. But with the camp before us as an 
object we were wildly reckless, and it was not 
long before we reached it. We scrambled 
over the stones to the tents, and dropped our 
bundles, which the cowardly and obsequious 
coolies ran to pick up. We were in a very 



206 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

paradise. A dah had arrived from Askole, 
and brought letters from England and chickens 
from the village ; Eahim Ali had the latter 
cooked, and soon we were each sitting on a 
I'ock with a hot chicken and a letter, happy, 
if ever men were happy. We slept — oh, 
how we did sleep that night !— although the 
thermometer registered 24° Fahr. inside the 
tent. After breakfast Zurbriggen and I went 
out gold-hunting. We saw some, but in 
quartz veins running in yellow threads, which 
we had no means of picking out. We turned 
from this seductive task, and spent the day 
idly making sketches and notes ; and the next 
day, August 28th, we started, as we said, for 
home. The morning was grey and cloudy, 
but the glacier's surface was hard and crisp, 
and crackled under our feet in a way that 
reminded us of a frosty winter's day in 
England. A thin shower of snow drifted 
about us, and through it fitful gleams of 
sunlight shot across the glacier from some 
breaks in the clouds, picking out the wonder- 
fully shaped seracs at the side, which for a 
moment were clear and distinct against the 
grey mist. But suddenly a hard, crisp snow 
came sweeping before the wind, cutting our 
faces till they bled, and making us rush for 



PIONBBE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 



207 



the first stone we could find big enongli for 
shelter. The cold was terrible, making our 
very marrow freeze. We camped near our 
old place at the junction of the glaciers. 

The snowstorm continued all night, and in 
the morning the glacier was covered a foot 
deep, yet Rahim Ali managed to make us a 
cup of chocolate for breakfast, which com- 
forted us greatly. Wrapped in all our warm 








clothing, we awaited the sun, which came out 
in a couple of hours, and soon melted the 
greater part of the new snow^, and enabled 
us to continue our way down. 

Conway determined to keep to the left of 
the Baltoro on the return journey, to see if 
we could escape some of the terrible stone- 
hopping we had so suffered from on the way 



208 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

up. We did escape a little of it this day after 
we turned the corner, but snow came, on in 
the evening and made things very uncom- 
fortable. The sunset effects, however, were 
so fine that, tired as I was, I contrived to 
get a sketch of its beautiful colour on misty 
mountains and grey glacier. 

Pristi gave us greeting next morning by 
sticking his wet nose in the tent door, dis- 
closing at the same time his snow-covered 
back, which told us it was snowing once 
more. It cleared off after breakfast, and we 
continued our way, unfortunately over the 
infernal stones again. Seeing some clear ice 
a little further on, we made for it ; it was cut 
across at intervals by crevasses, bridged in 
many places by great boulders of rock, which 
saved us looking along the edge for a narrow 
place to jump. In crossing one a coolie 
tumbled in ; his load jambed him in a narrow 
part about twelve feet down, and the excite- 
ment amongst his fellows was intense. Zur- 
briggen got him out with the rope, all right 
save for his fright, but he was an object of 
interest, not to say reverence, among the rest 
for a long time after. A little way further on, 
down a steep dip in the ice, some steps had 
been cut for us by Zurbriggen. We crossed 



HONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 209 

and sat down on the opposite height, watch- 
ing the men coming on. These steps were as 
big as a staircase, cut at an angle across the 
face of the slope, but the first man that came 
to them planted his foot just at the side of 
the step instead of on it, and came rattling 
down, bmidle and all. The incident was so 
laughable that everybody roared, and good 
humour was restored, and the coolies' fears 
allayed. We camped on the glacier in full 
view of Masherbrum (25,676 feet), across 
which the clouds moved lazily, " shepherded 
by the slow, unwilling wind." 

It w^as Conway's intention to ascend the 
Stachikyungme glacier and cross by the 
Masherbrum pass at the head of it, and so 
reach Scardu by Kapilu, instead of returning 
by Askole ; so our next march was for the 
corner of the Stachikyungme glacier. Leav- 
ing the stony surface of the Baltoro, we were 
soon on the clear ice of this side glacier, 
passing a great lake at the junction of the 
two, on which some sort of duck were slowly 
moving about ; they were probably as sur- 
prised at seeing us as we were to see them 
in this Arctic place. Of course there wasn't 
a gun in the party, much to our regret, as 
they would have been a very acceptable 

15 



210 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

variation to the usual dull monotony of our 
commissariat department. 

A steep, grass-covered moraine was the 
desired camping ground, and climbing its 
delightful slopes we sighed with a pleasure 
long denied us, for it was the first grass we 
had touched since we entered on the hated 
Baltoro. There was a lot of small shrub for 
fire, and some flowers enhanced our delight 
with their hues. The hill was so steep that 
it was utterly impossible to set up the tents 
on this side, and the other side was sheer 
precipice, so a platform had to be cut on the 
top. They were erected in this exposed posi- 
tion, and as the wind was rising we expected 
some trouble. We were not mistaken, for the 
tent, being broadside on it, got the full force 
of the wind during the night, and the guy 
ropes parted ; then the ridge rope slipped off 
the rock it was fastened to, and Conway and 
I were left standing, holding up the tent to 
keep it from smothering us, shouting mean- 
while for some one to get hold outside. At 
last one of the Glurkhas fixed us up again. 
But, with several alarms like this during the 
night, sleep was at a discount. 

Bruce arranged to leave us here and make 
for Abbottabad, so we had a busy day writing 



PIONEER PEAK TO ASKOLE. 211 

letters and packing up the collections and 
such stores as we should not require any 
further. These were sent off to Scardu. 
Bruce bade us good-bye at 2.30 p.m., and, 
accompanied by Parbir and Amar Sing, started 
on his way ; but not long after he left a 
coolie returned with a note to say that he 
had met with an accident which, though not 
serious, would prevent his moving for a couple 
of days. 

Duriug the morning the coolies, under 
Harkbir and Karbir's superintendence, had 
cut out a platform on the lee side of the 
hill and re-erected our tents, so that we were 
in a more comfortable position ; and in the 
evening Zurbriggen ascended the ridge above 
our camp and reported the presence of a herd 
of ibex. The absence of rifles prevented any 
enthusiasm to go hunting. But I thought of 
Jack, the hunter, who was now in Srinagar. 

The next morning Zurbriggen went up the 
Stachikyungme glacier on a tour of inspec- 
tion. On his return he reported that it was 
utterly hopeless to think of getting the coolies 
over. So our plans were changed again, and 
we had to return to Askole the way we came 
up. On this being reported to the coolies 
their delight was nnbounded, and was added 



212 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

to by the payment of their month's wages, 
which had been kept back to prevent them 
bolting when we thought of crossing the 
Masherbrum pass. 

Eahim Ah on pay day was in his element, 
and was a most important man both to him- 
self and to the coolies. It was amusing to 
watch this long, lanky figure, surmounted with 
an immaculate white turban, seating them in 
a row along the top of the hill above us. 
When this was all arranged he marched along 
in front of them, paying them their wages, 
and giving each and all lordly admonition. 

It was a great disappointment to Conway — 
and to me, for that matter — to have to give 
up this route. The old road that lay before 
us, and up which we had toiled so laboriously, 
and over which we had now to return, may 
have had something to do with my regret, for 
I shivered in anticipation of its dreaded stones. 
But when we bundled up in the morning it 
was with firm determination to get off its 
surface that day. We started at 6.15 a.m., 
and, crossing the clear ice of the Stachi- 
kyungme glacier, we entered on our pur- 
gatory, and soon reached Bruce, who was 
lying with a strained back and sprained ankle 
under the shelter of a stone wall which the 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 213 

Gurkhas had built for him. He said that he 
expected to be able to catch us up at Askole, 
and in the expectation of his doing so we 
went on our way, leaving him a small tent 
and provisions. However, it was a fortnight 
before he recovered. This was a very un- 
fortunate incident, and it was extremely diffi- 
cult to know what to do — whether to stay or 
go on. But camping there would have meant 
the loss of very valuable time, and expense, 




and yet going on seemed selfish. It is one of 
those things bound to happen in such expe- 
ditions, and one must reckon on them and 
take one's chance, just as one must look for 
tumbles, the risk of a crevasse or a broken 
rope on the ice. Bruce, I think, understood 
the situation, and bore it as he did everything 
else. But we all deeply regretted leaving 
him, though he had his faithful and affec- 
tionate Gurkhas to look after his wants. 
Toiling on to noon in agony unspeakable 



214 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

over the damnable stones, we had lunch 
and a smoke, and an hour's sleep, curled up 
on rocky couches ; then on again for an 
eternity. At last we stood on the snout of 
the horror, and saw the fires in the grey of 
night among the trees of our old Baltoro 
camp. 

The coolies must have gone before us like 
goats. But then they were going home. With 
a mad, wild rush down the stony slope — men, 
rocks, and dust together — we, too, were on 
the level bank of the river, and soon stretched 
out our weary bodies on the floor of our tents ; 
beneath us was luxuriously soft grass. 

Every bone in our bodies ached next morn- 
ing from the terrible day before, but we started 
with the determination of doing another record 
march. We knew what lay before us, but we 
put away the remembrance, and left the day 
to take care of itself. 

The river had fallen considerably since our 
march up, and we could walk over the bed of 
it, which saved us the most terrible of the 
scrambling over loose sand shoots. We passed 
our old camping ground at Bardumal, and a 
little further on we had to take to the bank 
once more, and that terrible ribbed fan. Up 
and down, up and down — would it never end ? 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 215 

At last we had climbed the last final rib, and, 
lying down, I felt as if I could never get up 
again. But Conway would not stop here. 
The coolies, who had been going like racers 
before us, now began to lag behind. On 
reaching the corner of the Punmah valley, 
leading to the rope bridge, I was dead beat, 
and the coolies were only making spasmodic 
spurts, resting every hundred yards. Conway 
would not camp, though I thought it a very 
good place, with both wood and water ; so, 
throwing myself down, I said I would sleep 
there and join them in the morning. My feet 
were in an awful state, and when Zurbriggen 
came back, about fifteen minutes after, to say 
that they had camped a little further on, I 
had no wish to move, so great was the relief 
to be off my feet. I managed, however, to 
reach the tents, and then Conway explained 
to me the reasons of this enforced work. He 
wanted to reach Scardu, where the first tele- 
graph station was, to telegraph home, as he 
had news in the letters he had received of a 
report in the Indian papers giving an account 
of the loss of the whole party, and he was 
afraid of it reaching England. 

I suggested that we ought to be lost like 
other expeditions, and have relief parties sent 



216 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

to look for lis, but he told me laughingly that 
he had forgotten to make arrangements for 
this before he left England. 

He had wanted to make a march this day 
long enough to enable us to reach Askole the 
next. If he had only told us what he wanted, 
I was prepared to go to Scardu without a stop. 
At any rate we were going to reach Askole 
next day, though the distance had occupied 
us two days and a half on the way up. 

We rose very early the next morning, and 
packed all the clothes we could possibly do 
without in the baggage. We instructed the 
men that they were to reach Askole that day, 
and they gave vent to whatever enthusiasm 
they were capable of showing at the prospect 
of reaching home. They started off with 
everything with them, food and bedding, so 
that notbing was left for us but to get there 
that night. 

We had a last look round from " Dreary 
Camp," and gave a farewell salute to hoary- 
headed Mango Gusor, which somehow just 
then seemed to me conscious of the human 
ants below him. Perhaps I had got infected 
with the natives' notion of goblins and fairies, 
and had grown fetichistic too. There were 
only Conway and I, Zurbriggen and the two 



PIONBEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 217 

Garkhas, and Pristi left, for the men had 
gone on some time before. A silence fell 
upon us ; we were leaving a country we 
should never see again, and we seemed to 
have spent a life in it. I started off alone, 
for Conway was finishing u|) his notes, and 
reached the gully formed by the torrent that 
had given us so much trouble to cross on 
our way up. The bottom was now filled 
with a dry mass of rocks, amongst which a 
little stream bubbled and sparkled. Climbing 
down and up the other side, I reached the 
walled enclosure the coolies had built for a 
shelter, and looking over, I was startled to see 
the form of what seemed a dead man, with 
his chest and legs bare. He was stretched 
full length on his back, his arms spread out, 
and with his partially opened and dry-lipped 
mouth, and his eyes staring up into the sun, 
he seemed like a dried mummy. A wooden 
bowl with a little water stood at his side ; he 
was very ghastly-looking. 

I could get no word out of him, and 
though his lips moved now as if in speech, 
no sound issued in answer to my questions. 
Conway and the rest coming up, we managed 
to get him to look alive ; he had been one of 
the party sent on to Askole, and falling ill, 



218 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

his companions being unable to carry him 
there — let alone over the rope bridge — had 
left him. We could do nothing except drag 
him into the shade, and supply him with food 
and water, and get on to Askole as quickl^^ as 
possible to send help back. 

It was the only sad incident on our ex- 
pedition. 

He looked an outcast, far away from the 
habitations of man in the midst of over- 
powering immensities. What a subject, I 
thought, for a picture ! For the death of 
Cain perhaps. 

On leaving him we crossed the rope bridge, 
and kept along the bank to the mouth of the 
river, instead of crossing the high ridge. At 
the corner we had to climb up the mighty 
glacier-worn rock face that descended straight 
into the river : this could only be managed 
by clambering up great fissures, in which 
steps had been artificially made here and 
there by placing loose stones in the cracks. 
But the smooth rock face had to be traversed, 
and at one place it was very dangerous. A 
corner round which we had to turn was quite 
smooth. Zurbriggen got round first, and I 
came next, hugging the rock high up with the 
palms of my hands as flat as I could get them, 



PIONEEE PEAK TO ASKOLE. 219 

I placed my body against it and curled my leg 
round, and slid down and round, to a little 
step I could not see, into which Zurbriggen 
placed the toe of my boot ; it would have 
about held a shilling lying flat. The drop 
straight down was about three hundred feet. 
From there it was easy to get on to a larger 
surface. The party following got round the 




same way, and the rest of the traverse was 
comparatively without risk. We got finally 
to an easy slope, and chasing butterflies on 
the way, reached the bed of the river, and 
soon were at Korofon camping-ground, resting 
under the shade of its great rock. We had 
lunch and again proceeded, and, turning the 
corner of the Biafo glacier without having to 
wade this time, we passed the great buttress 



220 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

that divides its flow and entered on the desert 
of the Askole valley, scrambling up the last 
part. From the top we saw the fields in 
the distance, and the sight brought renewed 
vigour to our tired limbs, and on we went. 

At last we came to fields of waving grain 
almost ripe for harvest, and passing on 
through a tree-bordered lane we entered the 
village and were surrounded by the natives 
and greeted by the old Lambadhar with 
hearty welcome ; the tents were up in the 
old place amongst the shady trees, and we 
entered on bliss unspeakable. 




CHAPTEE X. 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 



WE did not forget the poor coolie left in the 
mouDtains, and the Lambadhar sent off 
help for him. We heard afterwards that he 
was brought back all right. 

We remained the next day at Askole in 
hopes of Bruce joinhig us, as well as for a 
much-needed rest after our toil, but as I said 
it was some time before he could travel. Our 
road now lay south to Scardu, through the 
Shigar valley, and we had only one more 
snow pass to cross, the Scora La (17,320 
feet), after that it was downhill through the 
green valleys and orchard groves of Shigar. 
How our mouths watered at the thought of 
ripe apricots, melons, and fresh juicy fruit! 
There was no loitering amongst us. The 
poor natives were rather reluctant to leave 
their homes, but the rupees, and what they 
could buy with them, overcame their scruples. 



221 



222 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

and with hearty farewells to the simple kindly 
folk who had so helped us, we started on our 
way. 

We had to cross one more rope bridge, and 
it was the longest we had gone over yet. It 
swayed in the wind over the tumbling torrent 
of the Askole river. Conway and I went over 
at once, and sat on the high bank to see our 
loads being carried across. I watched the 
men's faces through my glasses as they 
slowly moved over the swaying bridge. Two 
only were allowed on at a time, and they kept 
close together. They would all have got on 
at once if they had been allowed, for a Balti 
always likes company in danger. 

As luck would have it, our coolies carrying 
Conway's bundle, containing all his precious 
diaries, and mine with my sketches, both got 
on the bridge together. We knew if one 
fell, the other would go with him. How 
we strained, looking through the glasses ! 
" They're sure to fall," Conway said, sadly 
anticipating black fate. 

" Hallo! there goes my bundle! " I shouted, 
as my coolie gave a lurch over, but he 
straightened himself again, and said something 
to his companion, and they stopped. Then 
on once more. 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 223 

'' He's gone ! " Conway shouted, as his 
cooHe missed a step. 

The fear on the men's faces was a study, 
but they reached the up slope of the bridge, 
and a native went down to give them a hand 
at the end ; and we breathed at last. I be- 
lieve we held our breath the whole time they 
were crossing, and I was bathed in perspira- 



i 









\\ 

( ■ 
V 



( \ V 



tion. Conway offered up a pious "thank 
God ! there are no more of those horrible 
bridges." 

It took an hour and a half for the men to 
cross, and after a short rest we went swinging 
along through the fields, and up the hill to 
the little village of Mongjong. There the 
Askole band met us, and went blowing and 
thumping before us for two hours, till we 



224 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

reached Thala Brok, a collection of loosely 
built stone huts, used by the villagers in the 
summer, when their sheep and goats are on 
the high pastures. Getthig away from its 
evil-smelling vicinity, we had our lunch while 
the band played, and the natives sat around 
on the rocks above us. After lunch they 
indulged in a grand nautcli, as the best 
parting honour they could show us. 

An hour's walk, by a well-marked track 
through wild rugged scenery, brought us to 
a pleasant green maidan, where the camp was 
already fixed. Ahead of it a great black stone 
fan, which ran in a straight line at an easy 
angle across the horizon, cut the base off the 
snow peaks of the pass, which towered above 
in a grey mist. It was blowing horribly and was 
very cold, and no object of great interest was 
in view. We kept to our tents. From mine 
I made a sketch of the well-muffled coolies 
bringing in firewood, and another of the 
golden glow on the peak above the pass as 
the sun set. 

We were all so mad to get to the land 
of flowers and fruit and good things — the 
pleasant land of Shigar — that we did another 
record march to Scora next day. Heavy 
clouds hung over the peaks above the pass. 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 225 

and mists swept up like smoke from the south 
side, liolding out every prospect of a cold 
climb. We started at 8 a.m. The coolies 
had been sent on in advance, striking out 
over the moraine to the white ice. I was 
feeling not at all well, and so plodded along 
by myself, going steadily, with very little 
interest in my cold surroundings. But I 
took the crevasses at a jump and caught up 
the coolies, and, leaving them, soon after 
came in sight of the pass. It looks like 
the lower jaw of a great skull, with the front 
teeth broken out. A cold damp mist puffed 
up from below between the broken stumps, 
and it was so freezing cold, that it made me 
take shelter under one of them till the party 
arrived, when they all huddled in separate 
shelters. I waited for a servant to bring me 
something to eat, as I thought we were to 
have lunch here. I waited some time, and 
no one turning up with the expected food, 
I got out of my hole to see what they were 
doing. But not a soul was in sight. Climb- 
ing up to the gap of the pass, I was in time to 
see the tail end of the line of coolies dis- 
appearing in, the mist below. The cold wind 
cut like a knife in my exposed position, so 
I speedily got down out of the draught, and 

16 



226 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



went after them. There was not a patch of 
snow or ice on this side of the mountain, 
though some old avalanche snow lay far 
down in the bed of the couloir^ and a well- 
marked path traversed the ridges on this 
face of the mountain in zigzags. It was not 



/f^ 



/■ 




1 



If 

•ti/ 




bad going, and at last we stood in the bed 
of the Scora valley, and a few hundred yards 
further, in an old grass-covered enclosure, 
I got hold of something to eat. 

We crossed the narrow river here in a 
regular Scotch rain, and were soaking wet 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 227 

in no time. We clambered up higher and 
higher, by a path which led through trees and 
over grassy slopes, the only means of getting 
past the steep rocky gorge through which the 
river ran. Then we went down steep zigzags 
to the river-bed again, to a regular rock 
canon, and high above us great and curious 
water-worn projections of rock stuck out from 
the face. We rolled big rocks into the river 
to make steps across, and reached the other 
side ; a little further along we had to cross 
once more. This sort of travelling continued 
till we reached a well-worn camping-ground 
under some trees, where we intended to stop, 
and were preparing to camp, when Eahim Ali 
informed us that Scora was not much further 
on at the entrance to the Shigar valley ; and 
we decided to reach it. 

We had more river crossing, which was now 
becoming rather wearisome. Its stream had 
widened with the spread of the valley as it 
neared its junction, and the character of the 
mountains entirely changed. Our ideas as to 
heights were all curiously wrong after the 
great mountains we had left. Conway and I 
only noticed this when I remarked, on seeing 
a green patch at the angle of the valley with 
some dark objects moving over it, that it was 



228 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Shigar, and that there were some goats 
feeding, for we found that the place was no 
distance from us, and that the goats were 
cows, so used had we become to the immense 
size of the momitains we had left. 

The weary march at last was at an end. 
The glow died out of the clouds that had lit 
the last mile of it with rosy colour, and under 
the waving green branches of some fruit trees 
on the soft green turf by the bank of a rippling 
brook we lay in absolute content. 

In the morning the sun was shining glori- 
ously through the fruit trees. The little 
village of Scora, with its small wood-framed 
and wattle- walled houses, looked very frail 
and primitive. Natives were gossiping to 
each other, children driving cattle, and women 
watching the sahibs. We were as great an 
excitement to them as a circus passing 
through some comitry village at home. 

Crossing over the Scora river once more we 
entered a very Garden of Eden. The broad 
valley of Shigar spread out far away into the 
deep blue shadows of the distant surrounding 
hills, and long avenues of trees shaded a broad 
road, wide enough for driving. The fields 
were yellow with harvest, and the natives 
busy reaping it, making quaint pictures in 



ASKOLE TO SCARDU. 229 

their curious picturesque garments. Oxen 
were treading out the grain, marching in a 
circle, tied to great posts erected in the 
centre of the grain spread out below them. 
They were yoked close together, and their 
heads were bent down with the heavy tunber 
yoke. This black mass of cattle with great 
blue lights on their sweating backs made a 
beautiful picture in the midst of the golden 
straw and dust haze. A nearly naked brown- 
skinned native, with a stick, was beating and 







pushing, shouting "gee up" in Balti to the 
outside beasts to make them keep up with 
the shorter steps of the inner ones. A group 
of native children tossing about in the straw 
in the foreground, with their father lounging 
and looking on, completed the picture. 

The curious sensation of freedom we ex- 
perienced as we gaily swuug along the broad 
road, with a clear blue sky above flaked with 
pure light-rimmed white clouds, was delight- 
ful. The great masses of shady trees, and 



230 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the long poplar-lined avenue ranged like a 
ladder with the thin shadows of their trunks ; 
the hirds singing gaily, the sheep and cattle 
grazing, and the villagers at their harvest- 
work, all made melody in our hearts after 
our restraints and trials in the world's cold 
solitudes. 

We passed through many little villages 
nestled amongst shady fruit trees, with 
gardens of beautiful flowers, and rested at 
Segong, where the Lambadhar regaled us 
with grapes and apricots, and we drank of the 
sparkling stream at our feet. We visited and 
admired the little mosques, most of them 
beautifully proportioned and admirably built, 
and journeying on we entered the chief village 
of Shigar. Passing through its little bazaar 
of small shops, and then crossing a river, 
which descends from a rocky nala, we reached 
the broad polo-ground, and underneath some 
great chinar trees found our men awaiting us. 

We intended continuing our journey to 
Scardu this day by means of a skin raft called 
a zuh down the Shigar river to the Indus, 
while the coolies went by road ; but that new 
experience was reserved till to-morrow, as we 
were fascinated with the beautiful place and 
the ripe fruit, and all the good things that 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 231 

abounded in plenty around us. Each of us 
were soon in the midst of a melon that was 
big enough for a tub, and juicy enough to 
swim in. Merchants came with their beauti- 
ful, soft, snowy webs of Paslimina, and though 
we did not buy, we enjoyed the sensation of 
shopping as much as a w^oman in Kegent 
Street. The novelty of seeing anything in 
the nature of a shop was so strange. They 
soon left, and I went out sketching. 

What a change of subject from the ice and 
snows to white-flowered fields, through which 
walked natives in yellow, blue, and white 
muslin robes ! In the background were rich 
dark green trees, and, under them, white- 
walled and dark-timbered houses, beautiful to 
look on and to sketch. 

Next morning, after the baggage had been 
sent off to Scardu, we wandered, in the cool 
shadow of hills cast right across the valley by 
the rising sun, down through fields of grain, 
and past busy farmyards to the sandy beds of 
the river on which was lying a collection of 
blown-out sheepskins lashed to a lot of very 
thin poles. Five bare-legged natives were 
busy completing the construction of the raft. 
One was lying down by the bladders blowing 
into the hind legs and filling the skins with 



232 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

wiud, deftly tying each, as lie finished, with a 
bit of fresh bark, pieces of which he kept 
stuck in the scarf round his waist. Zurbrig- 
gen looked with rather a rueful countenance 
on the conveyance that was to take us down 
the tumbling river. I remarked to hiin that 
we might catch up the coolies yet, but the 
experience was too novel a one to be missed, 
so we resigned ourselves to fate, and the crew 
got their strange craft in working order. 
Turning it over into the water, with the 
framework uppermost, it was at once afloat. 
There were thirty skins, and five of the crew, 
and five passengers, and the dog. We squatted 
between each other's legs in a row down the 
middle. There was no bow or stern to the 
craft, but that didn't matter, as we found out 
afterwards. The crew divided themselves on 
either side, and pushed off. They had each 
a stick like a clothes-prop, without the fork, 
which they used as paddles. Why they had 
no paddles I do not know, as one toach of a 
paddle would be equal to thirty strokes of the 
stick they used. But perhaps the poles in such 
navigation were better for several purposes. 

The water was smooth for a considerable 
way after we started, and we simply went 
with the stream, no movement being percep- 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 233 

tible, save the flying banks rushing past, and 
the distant hills doing a right and left wheel. 
Suddenly the man on the look-out saw 
breakers ahead, and there was a jabbering of 
orders and remarks, and swearing, I suppose, 
for we could not understand a word, and every 
man began backing water for dear life. Soon 
we were in the breakers, and the raft swirled 
round, the water splashed and bubbled up 
between our legs, and we held on for all we 
knew, and swore deep at the wetting. The 
dog never uttered a howl, but looked like the 
picture of a martyr at the stake. Again and 
again the raft swirled round as the water 
broke over some fall in the bottom, then 
rushed off at great speed anyhow and every- 
how, so we never knew which end was going 
to be foremost. 

Once we grounded on a shallow, and the 
bladders had to be dragged over the pebbly 
bottom, till I thought they w^ould be torn to 
pieces, and we should be left in the middle of 
the river, but we got off safely. However, all 
the time we were going, first one and then 
another bladder would get flabby from the air 
escaping, and one of the crew would flop down 
and blow it up again. The novelty of the 
journey and the swiftness of it were rather 



234 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

discounted by its uncertainty. The crew 
guided the raft over to the left bank as we 
neared the junction with the Indus, and there 
we landed, while the men got the raft out of 
the water, and carrying it on their shoulders 
by the four corners, marched across the sandy 
promontory to the bank of the Indus, which 
we had to cross, and getting afloat again, 
towed us further up, past a very nasty piece 
of quicksand into which they sank leg-deep. 
At a bend in the river our men got on board, 
and the river carried us over to the other side 
in a rather desolate waste. We paid them 
off, and the crew dismantled ship by letting 
the wind out of the skins. Tying them up in 
bundles, they prepared for their march back 
to Shigar, while we turned towards the road 
leading to Scardu. Here there seemed to be 
two ways round a great rock bluff, which stood 
at the junction of the rivers. Seeing a fort 
perched up on the left-hand ridge, we made 
our way towards it, and found a good path 
leading up and round it, and shortly after 
entered the narrow street of houses. On the 
roofs some natives were busy winnowing 
grain by throwiog it into the air, and letting 
the wind drive the chaff off, the grain falling 
back on the heap. 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 235 

The houses were scattered m groups over a 
broad valley, surrounded by big bare hills, 
and making our way at once to the post-office, 
pointed out to us by a native, Conway tele- 
graphed home the news of our success. We 
demanded our letters, and the Kashmiri post- 
master in charge pointed to some post-bags 
which we emptied out on the sandy floor. I 
thought there should be some more for me, 
and ransacked the place, finding one in an 
old tool box. There was also a great parcel 
of tobacco sent by Jack, who was now at 
Srinagar. 

After this we made our way through an 
avenue of trees, and along a dusty road, over 
a high bank above the river bed to the well- 
built house of the Tehsildar or Governor, who 
received us heartily, surrounded by a squat- 
ting retinue of white-turbaned Kashmiri 
clerks. Some rooms were placed at our dis- 
posal, and getting out our baggage, which was 
stored here, we made a sort of scratch meal, 
while we waited for our coolies to come in. 
As we were sitting wiling away the time 
writing, a message was sent from the Eajah, 
inviting us to a polo-match, and Conway, who 
had arrears of writing to make up, deputed 
me as representative to attend. 



236 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

I was not in costume to visit kings, never- 
theless I went off. Ealiim Ali, to give dignity 
to the Sahib on whom he attended, instructed 
some natives to attach themselves to me, as no 
one is of any importance in the country who 
has not a number of followers of some sort. 
Going through a row of gaily caparisoned 
horses held by servants, I reached the Eajah's 
pavilion overlooking the polo-ground, where 
he sat on rich carpets. He was a venerable- 
looking old man, surrounded by a gorgeously 
attired court, the greater nobles being seated 
on the carpet with him, while the lesser stood 
on steps at the back. They all rose at my 
arrival, and salaamed, and I did the same. 
A chair was placed for me alongside his 
Eajahship. But the old man did not know 
a word of Hindustani, so that I was com- 
pletely stumped. He smiled, and I grinned 
back at him, but that was the extent of our 
conversation, till some one got enough words 
together to explain to me that the Governor 
was coming, and that he would interpret. 
Shortly after he clattered up on a pony with 
a great retinue, and they received him with 
much honour. Was he not the representative 
of the race that had conquered them, and now 
I suppose ground them down with taxes ? It 



ASKOLE TO SCAEDU. 237 

was a sorrowful sight to see the fine old royal- 
looking face of the descendant of the ancient 
rulers of the land bowed before the Kashmiri 
Governor, fat, sleek, and proud. 

While waiting for us the polo players were 
seated in a semicircle on the ground, all 
dressed in white, while behind each his horse 
stood, held by a servant; an attendant handed 
round a large silver water-pipe, from which 
each took a puff. The whole scene was 
lighted up with a great crimson glow from the 
setting sun, and the effect and colour were 
wonderful. I explained to the old king 
through the Governor why Conway was un- 
able to come. But the scene was one I knew 
he would not like to miss, and as the old 
Eajah looked disappointed at not seeing 
Conway, I said I should write a letter, and he 
would come. Scribbling a note, a servant 
was sent off with it. In the meantime the 
game might commence. The players got up, 
and giving to the attendant the white scarves 
they had around them, mounted their ponies, 
and began to play. It was a wild and very 
fast game, but my interest in it was swallowed 
up in the glory of the picture in the gorgeous 
sunset. 

Conway arrived, and was delighted with it. 



238 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

We returned to our house and spread our 
beds on charpois, and felt a sense of civilised 
existence about us. 

We employed all the next morning writing 
letters, and after lunch I went out, taking 
Karbir with me to explore the valley for 
subjects. There were many little bits of 
beautiful colour in and about the different 
groups of quaint houses, and with the unusual 
costume of the natives, these were very attrac- 
tive to sketch. But the grand view up the 
Indus valley overpowered all this mere pretti- 
ness. A great sweep of river, and broad banks 
of sand with a great grey-brown background of 
rock mountains, made a splendid composition 
even when it was not lighted up with the red 
glow of the setting sun and the long deep 
purple shadows creeping up the valley. But 
it was loveliest when the last streak of sunset 
gold was gone, and the valley was grey, that 
wonderful grey that makes a painter's heart 
ache for its infinite subtlety, its fleeting 
charm and impossibility of satisfactory treat- 
ment. 

The next day was so fearfully hot that I 
remained in the hangla. As there were 
plenty of subjects in the courtyard, I could 
sit in the cool shade of the house and sketch 



ASKOLE TO SCARDU. 



239 



the life and movement around me. The 
coolies who were to take the greater part 
of the baggage to Srinagar direct, gathered 
around, but Conway was unable to get the 
governor to change a cheque. This caused 
much trouble and telegraphing, and not till 
next day was the matter arranged. Then 
they were sent off, and we started on our 
journey to the land of Baddha. 





1 pji^r--- 'M 1 



'^f^H 



CHAPTEE XI. 



SC AEDU TO L E H. 



THE trip to Leh in Ladak, or Little Thibet, 
was undertaken principally for the oppor- 
tunity of comparing barometer readings at the 
observatory there with the ones taken on our 
journey ; but the chance of seeing that curious 
land of mystery and its fantastic people was a 
great element in causing our deflection from 
the road southwards and homewards. 

The necessary rupees being at last provided 
by the Tehsildar, the main baggage was sent 
off to Sriuagar by the Deosai plain. 

We mounted the ponies provided for our 
march, and a wilder-looking or more raggedly 
equipped lot of animals it would be difficult 



240 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 241 

to find anywhere. The saddles were the high, 
pommelled ones used by the natives, but 
nearly all the stuffing had fled from them, and 
the bare boards of which they were formed 
caused us unutterable agony. The animals 
could not be induced to go at more than a 
walking pace, and in Indian file, even though 
the road at the start was broad enough. The 
ponies knew that it would soon become narrow, 
and I suppose thought it was no good getting 
too familiar at the start, for friendships formed 
would have to be broken, and there was no 
use beginning them. Each had led a lonely 
life from the day he was able to carry a load 
or a man, and the tails of his companions 
were the only parts of them he had studied, 
and he knew the usefulness of bis front rank's 
tail when the flies were troublesome. 

Conway, Zurbriggen, and myself alone were- 
mounted. Eahini Ali and the two Gurkhas 
took charge of the coolies. 

It was a delightful change, until we got 
sore, to have some other legs doing the work 
of one's own, giving us opportunity to look 
about instead of having to watch each foot- 
step, as we had done for so many months in 
the mountains. 

Oar first day's march was up the broad 
17 



242 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

valley of Scardu by a great wide road, and for 
half the time we had a straight avenue of 
trees. Further on the valley narrowed, and 
it became mere desert of rock and sand, 
making us thankful that it was on the back 
of an animal we were travelling instead of 
ploughing on foot through the red dust. 
Eiding along over a rock parri, up which a 
sort of staircase is formed, and under and 
through the fort-like house which stands on 
the road, we passed a village with stone- 
covered fields, and reached Thurgon. There 
we rode through a regular farmyard, where 
harvesting operations were in full swing, and 
reaching the Bagh, where we were to camp, 
we sat down in the hollow of a dry irrigation 
channel on the top of a dyke. There we 
dangled our legs, waiting for the coolies, who 
did not turn up for nearly two hours. In the 
meantime we discovered a coohiess about our 
seat that seemed very refreshing, till we dis- 
covered that the water had been turned on 
and that we were sitting in it blocking the 
channel. The native who wished to irrigate 
his crops, and wondering, I suppose, whj^ no 
water reached them after turning it on, 
followed the lead of the channel up to find out 
the cause of the obstruction, and discovering 



SCAEDU TO LBH. 243 

what dreadful thing he had done to the 
Sahibs, " scooted " for all he knew. 

Wandering down to the bank of the Indus 
over the rocks and stones, to sketch a dark 
fiery sunset that lit up the grey waters of the 
river tumbling over some great rocks, I dis- 
covered that another artist must have been 
there before me, for numerous pictures of ibex 
with tremendous horns and very attenuated 
legs and body had been cut on the stone. 
The carvings seemed of great age, and the 
artist was unknown— at any rate to the people 
of the village. Perhaps he was some hunter, 
waitiug in days long gone for the animals he 
depicted to come to the river to drink, who 
wiled away his time scraping with a spoiled 
arrow head these pictures of the great beasts 
he hoped to shoot. 

We left Thurgon at eight o'clock on the 
same ponies, and for four hours it was an 
utter desert waste of sand and rocks, in which 
we climbed up high parris by wonderfully 
constructed roads. But we had no w^ater and 
the sun burned overhead. We could hear the 
maddening sound of the river far below, which 
was added torture to thirsty travellers' sand- 
choked throats. But at last we stayed to eat 
at Gol under the shady trees, and there we 



244 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

could get something to drink. The oases of 
villages in this barren land are the most 
wonderfully contrived - feats of cultivation 
imaginable. For as one is riding along the 
sandy wastes with not a shrub or the sem- 
blance of one in sight, for the only crop 
nature yields is great rusty-coloured, water- 
worn rocks of the most wonderful shapes, and 
while one is wondering how these were formed, 
and how on earth they got a thousand feet 
above the river-bed, of a sudden the pony is 
scrambling up through fruit trees and splash- 
ing through water. The sensation was de- 
lightful ; the surprise perfect. 

At Gol we changed coolies and ponies, and 
Conway and I went on ahead. Another series 
of high -parris had now to be traversed ; but 
our nerves were not good enough to ride over 
the worst parts of loose, flat stones laid on 
apparently very rotten sticks stuck in the 
cracks of the rock face. The animals scramble 
over in the most marvellous manner, though 
their legs often go through as they step on 
the edge of some stone and tip it over. 

Zurbriggen, whom we had left behind tying 
his broken saddle on the animal he had 
selected, told us when he reached us that it 
was a brute. When lie stopped to let it drink 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 245 

at a pool shortly after leaviug Gol, the saddle 
and he went sliding over the pony's head into 
the water. I am sorry I missed that. 

At the junction of the Shyok and the Indus 
we turned the corner and mounted to the top 
of another high ixirri, whence we had a splen- 
did view of the canon-like gorge of the Indus. 
Descending again to tlie sandy wastes we 
reached Sermi, a village with sparkling streams 
and bright green fields, and passing through 




it into the desert, we came to an imposing 
avenue of poplars, with a walled enclosure, 
which seemed to lead nowhere. It looked as if 
somebody had been going to start a house 
there, and after building a gateway and plant- 
ing an avenue, his money had run out. Our 
ponies ambled along through another waste of 
sand, and we reached the outskirts of Parkutta. 
Leaving our animals for Zurbriggen and Rahim 
Ali, we walked up to Parkutta itself, most 



246 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

beautifully situated on the top of white rocks. 
We reached the Bagh at seven o'clock, and 
awaited the coolies, who did not arrive till long 
after dark. We had been eleven hours on 
horseback and w^ere very sore. 

We had another set of ponies next morning, 
of the same class and comfort, and the road 
presented the same rugged features. We 
passed through thriving little villages sur- 
rounded by green fields on broad sloping fans, 
where the houses were built of wicker, stone, 
and mud walls, over more high parris above 
the river that wound about the base of the 
steep sides. The water was a dark silver grey, 
harmonising beautifully with the yellow, brown, 
and purple of the rocks, which were lit up 
with the sun, the sweeping clouds painting 
the hill-sides in great purple shadows. 

Beaching Tolti, which boasts of a Rajah 
and palace of sorts, our camp was pitched on 
a platform above a little tributary of the river, 
close to the houses. The smell was abomin- 
able. We had a visit from His ragged High- 
ness and promised to photograph him in the 
morning, he was so interested in the camera. 

I was not feeling very well, and leaving the 
dirty place, I took my sketching materials and 
went out into the beautiful fields, and sitting 




SCAEDU TO LEH. 247 

on the high bank above the river, I dreamed 
away the sunny hours. Eeturning to camp 
I found every one asleep. 

Tolti provided the worst-looking lot of 
animals we had had yet, but they 
turned out much better than we 
expected, seeing the nature of the 4;W 
road we had to travel over. The 
banks of the gorge being pre- 
cipitous, it had been found impos- ''• 
sible to make a road of any sort along it. 

The Eajah turned up in the morning dressed 
in his very best Sunday suit, with a fine tul- 
war, which I much wished to take from him, 
and he posed with his wazier on a seat be- 
neath the chinar trees and looked like a 
wooden image ; of course he wanted his pic- 
ture there and then, but Conway informed 
him it would have to go to London first. I 
believe he thought the whole business a fraud. 

The ponies were no use the first part of the 
way, the road was so steep, so we climbed up 
the high parri on foot, one thousand feet above 
the river. It was the same old road, in which 
the climbing was never done, that we were so 
sick and tired of. The coolies lagged behind, 
at which I don't wonder, and we were vexed 
as we waited in hungry impatience for them 



248 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

to arrive. At this place, Khurmang, a com- 
pany of Kashmiri Sepoys was encamped, and 
we saw the little groups of soldiers cooking 
their food mider shelter of the great boulders 
with which the ground was covered — for they 
do not appear to have tents. One lot was 
boiling water, and another group, having evi- 
dently stolen a goat somewhere — (I'm sure 
they never bought it) — were toasting it whole 
over a fire. A couple of men turned it round 
and round, scraping the singed hair off as 
the flames licked it, while others, muffled 
up like Indian idols, sat on the tops of the 
great rocks waiting for the feed. The coolies 
who had carried the baggage were squabbling 
and fightiug — no, not fighting, they couldn't 
do that, but the nearest to it — over their pay. 
The little fires burning and the blue smoke 
curving and floating across the dark recesses 
of the gorge made a very picturesque scene 
at night. 

We had very giddy work the next day, for 
the j;an•^s were simply terrible-looking. They 
were steep, perpendicular walls, hundreds of 
feet high, and along the top, close on the 
very edge, the road tumbled unevenly over 
smooth flat rocks, up loose staircases of stone, 
and, reaching a corner where the cliff shot up 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 249 

straight and perpendicular far above, a ter- 
race commenced. A great crack in the rock 
had evidently suggested a means of getting 
round, and the natives had simply stuck small 
trunks of trees in it horizontally at intervals, 
bridging the spaces with flat, loose stones. I 
had ridden roads before this that would have 
made my fortune in a circus, but this was a 
little too much to expect of me, so I got off 
and let my pony find his way around as best 
he might, and away he scrambled. I stood at 
one corner to make a note, and then followed. 
The rough gallery wound along, taking advan- 
tage of every crack in the face of the cliff, and 
all the way round this great face of rock we 
could see the sweeping grey river far down 
below, through the holes in the road. This 
gallery, I believe, was nearly half a mile long. 

At Parkutta we stopped for lunch. The 
coolies did not arrive for hours, and Eahim Ali 
was ill, so that we remained the night there. 
The river-bed b}^ which we camped was a 
great sweep of dry, shifting sand, which got 
into my paint and water, so that sketching 
was impossible. I was glad of the excuse for 
a good long sleep, which had been denied 
me the two previous nights. 

Next morning we had to climb straight up 



250 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

from camp and over the hills above. The 
path was fahly good, except for the constant 
ups and downs. Only once did we descend 
as low as the river, and then it was up and 
up and round again. When we left the Indus 
for the Dras valley we had the same desert of 
rock and sand, with here and there a patch of 
cultivation and its complement of huts. Ar- 
riving at Oldingthang, we camped on the roof 
of the Serai, or Rest House, which it boasts 
of, and had the luxury of a charpoi to sleep 
on. Heavy rain came on shortly after we 
arrived and washed the dust off the trees and 
brightened up the landscape. 

We had a long, weary march next day. 
Starting at seven a.m. we found that there 
was not so much climbmg, the path keeping 
low down through a very desert. It gave me 
a very clear idea of the miseries of the Sahara 
without water. We turned away at the junc- 
tion of the Dras and Sura rivers, and keeping 
along the left bank of the Dras, reached the 
village and Bagh of Hardas, where the natives 
made the time lively for us with a band and 
dancing. We lunched, while the flies did the 
same off us, and mounting our new ponies, 
we continued our way for another hour up the 
valley, till we reached a roughly-made wooden 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 251 

bridge without hand-rail. Over this we had 
to go very slowly, and one by one, as any 
great liveliness upon it set it springing up 
and down enough to pitch one off. Eeaching 
the other side we had to retrace our way up 
the valley to the Suru, but I had got a good 
animal and had a splendid gallop with Zur- 
briggen and Pristi. Eesting by a lovely spark- 
ling stream on grassy banks, we waited for 
Conway, who had got a real bad pony and 
saddle. An hour and a half more brought us 
to the fine open valley of Kargil, and our 
ponies were soon scrambling up the steep 
little street leading to the Serai. We had 
been twelve hours on the road. 

It was a lovely evening and a beautiful 
scene : for the river wound about its wide 
stony bed in silver streams, and the tops of 
the low hills which surround the valley were 
lit with the gold of the setting sun. As their 
natural colour was a dusty red, the brilliance 
was remarkable. The recesses and bed of the 
valley were veiled in the most beautiful warm 
purple shadows, and, with the high grey knolls 
and the clumps of trees, made a magnificent 
subject. But unfortunately our men were 
hours behind, and my paints did not arrive in 
time to catch the full glory of the subject. 



252 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

There was more life and bustle and the evi- 
dences of many travellers passing through 
and about the big Serai at Kargil, and next 
morning, shortly after we had crossed the 
river and began to ascend the dusty road up 
to the great plateau, we were stopped by a 
tumbling, crushing mass of men and ponies 
loaded with merchandise from Yarkand and 
the countries beyond the watershed of India. 
The strange costumes of the men and their 
keen, brown faces told of another land than 
that belonging to the mild Baltis. They still 
wore the long, thick quilted coats and the 
round cap trimmed with fur, which they had 
for keepiog them warm crossing the Kara- 
koram Pass. We had met a new people, 
and our thoughts were carried away to the 
bare plateaus and distant lands of Central 
Asia. 

The scenery had now taken a different 
character from the deep, rocky gorges of the 
Indus, and spreading out in great rolling 
plateaus of shingle, made a good road for 
cantering over. The mountains expanded in 
broad lines, making grand masses of wonder- 
ful colour. We descended to the valley of 
the Wakkha river over well-made broad roads, 
through pleasant villages, well wooded and 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 253 

watered by the river aud the irrigation streams 
which led from it. 

After lunch the valley narrowed to a gorge, 
•but the road gave us no difficulty; we met 
many people and caravans, and the journey 
seemed shorter in consequence. We saw and 
examined our -first mani* and admired the 
engraving of the prayers on the stones placed 
on it, passing it on the left side like good 
believing Buddhists. Shortly after we reached 
the end of the gorge, and crossing the river, 
came to Shargol and saw the first pigtails, 
and startling coloured cliortens f with hideous 
monstrosities in relief, painted in red and 
yellow. The first view of Shargol, with a 
background of architectural-looking moun- 
tains, was most impressive ; but the curiously 
coloured hills took us quite aback. One 
mighty face looked as if a great colour manu- 
factory had once been in working order and 

* A inctni is a massive stone wall from four to eight 
feet high, sloping from either side to the centre like a 
house-roof. Each flat stone in the roof is carved, in the 
pictorial characters of Tibet, with prayers, generally " Om 
mani patmi om." See Knight's " Where Three Empires 
Meet." 

t When the corpse of a Buddhist is burnt by the 
lamas, some of the ashes are mixed with clay and 
moulded into a little figure. This is placed in a chorten 
or memorial monument. 



254 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

had got struck down by some tremendous 
tornado, spilling tanks of paint, vermilion, 
cobalt, and orange, for there were daubs of 
colour all over the place on rocks and cliffs. 
We camped beside the great Serai. I was 
awakened in the evening by the arrival of 
Captain Myers, hurrying down in double 
marches to join his regiment ordered on the 
Black Mountain Expedition ; he was off before 
us in the morning. 

Fording a small stream, we entered the 
Wakkha valley again, and rode along by the 
river, where small trees and shrubs grew 
thickly. On our left, high up against the 
grey dull sky, we had our first sight of one 
of the freaks of the architects of these people. 
On the top of a high and steep rock was built 
a gonjpa, or Buddhist monastery. How they 
got themselves up there, let alone the mate- 
rials, was a mystery to us. Along the base 
of the rock were square-built houses of one 
or two stories ; on the roofs were piled up 
masses of straw and grass for the winter ; 
numerous cliortens lined the road. This, I 
thought, was certainly the country for wild, 
fantastic subjects. 

Another hour's canter along the well-trodden 
road took us past a great rock with an enor- 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 255 

mous Buddhist figure, carved in relief, rouud 
whose feet as high as the knees a little temple 
was built. I thought that there were two men 
on the top waving their clothes, but it turned 
out to be only a couple of ragged petticoats 
stuck on poles. I looked all round the rock 
to see how the men got up to put them there, 
but gave it up ; it appeared inaccessible. 

The road, ploughed up by numerous cara- 
vans, now led round to a side valley, where 
great low rolling hills of burnt sand stretched 
away on either hand, and no sign of life broke 
the dead desolation. I cantered alone along 
the bed of a dried-up river, for Conway was far 
behind investigating the figure and temple 
of the rock. The wind was raw, and I felt 
exceedingly miserable and outcast in this 
terrible desert, and my imagination dwelt on 
the thought of wandering alone, lost in this 
barren and awful waste. Should a storm or 
fog arise, and the sand obliterate the tracks, 
it would be hopeless to find the way. Yalleys 
branched out of each other on every side, a 
very maze, and each one the same. 

I still went on ahead looking for water and 
a decent place to lunch. My pony ambled on 
and up, and I reached the top of the pass 
where a great rock towering high above it 



256 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALx\YAS. 

makes a good landmark. It was bitterly cold, 
and I went on down the other side, the sandy 
desert still around me, but far away in the 
distance I had glimpses of rich purple hills 
and- the curious, many-coloured slopes of the 
country. 

I do not know whether it was this day or 
not ; it may indeed have been before or after, 
for I was so sick and ill for much of this 
journey that part of it is jumbled and con- 
fused in my mind and notes ; but whether 
this day or not, I remember riding alone 
through a narrow, wild-looking valley, when 
suddenly a savage-looking individual with 
wild staring eyes came from behind a rock 
and confronted me. My pony stopped, perhaps 
alarmed at the sudden single figure, and I 
waited to know what the man wanted. He 
was a very serious, mad-looking person, with 
a great knife in his sash, mixed with other 
smaller instruments of destruction, probably 
of less use to him. He came up and caught 
my pony by the bridle. I told him in easy 
English to let go. Perhaps he did not under- 
stand ; at any rate he still held on and jabbered 
dreadfully, even at last catching me by the 
leg. This was more than I could put up with, 
and I let him have the butt end of my riding- 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 257 

whip over the head; he let go with a howl 
and ran. I daresay if I had understood the 
poor devil he meant no harm, but I was sick, 
and ill to deal with just then. 

On, still on, and now my miserable, lazy 
beast of an animal would do no more than 
a crawl. How I hated that brute ! I had 
turned into a broad, open valley, and lay at 
the edge of the road while the beast grazed 
on the thistles. There was a low-walled, 
flat-roofed series of houses, on the roofs of 
which the curiously ugly women with their 
wonderful headgear were spreading out some 
grass to dry. Out across the valley rose 
marvellous shaped spiky hills, with the still 
more marvellous buildings on top, mostly in 
a ruined state. Karbir joined me where I lay, 
and informed me that lunch had been taken 
by the party after crossing the pass, so he and 
I made our way to the Serai of Karbu, that 
being the name of the valley and the village. 
The villagers in charge received us, and I set 
them to work sweeping the built-up platform 
near the Serai, and amused myself making 
notes of them till my companions arrived. 

We had the same scenery next day without 
any variation. We crossed the Futu La, and, 
resting on the opposite side by an artificial 

18 



258 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



pond of water, went down through sand 
gulhes to the Lama-yurn valley. Turning 
the corner, the first sight of the town was a 
revelation, used as we now were to the 
vagaries of the Buddhist architects. A be- 
wildering fantastic series of buildings was 













^jj 



'3^i?«fi^^^^ I 



..A 



erected on top of a series of earth towers, 
and, built in between the spaces that separated 
them, innumerable cliortens of all sizes and 
shapes seemed to cover the whole plain at 
the bottom, hardly leaving room to pass 
between them. For miles along the road 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 259 

over which we were riding were great long 
platforms, covered completely with stones 
inscribed with prayers, and we felt like Moses 
on the burning momit, inclined to take off 
our shoes, for we were surely on holy ground. 
We passed through the gateway of a great 
clwrten at the entrance to the village, and 
were in the streets, and passed to an enclo- 
sure of trees, the wall of which had to be 
broken down to let us in, as we could not 
sleep in the Serai. A very Chinese-looking 
individual with innumerable instruments stuck 
in his girdle, including a knife, informed us 
that he was the boss and would do what was 
needful for our comfort. 

• I went out and made a sketch of the 
picturesque place in the evening, but heavy 
clouds, gathering thickly, soon burst into a 
smart fall of snow which covered the hills 
with a grey sheet. 

I felt very ill next morning and unable to 
eat, so, hungry and sick, I mounted my pony 
and passed out of the village, whose white 
walls shone golden against a blue sky, into a 
narrow valley between the hills and great 
earth pyramids of old lake deposit, looking 
as if a touch would send them crashing down. 
Crossing and re-crossing the little stream that 



260 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

tumbled amongst- the stones, and exchanging 
greetings with the driver of another caravan 
of merchandise, we reached a dah wallah's 
hut and seated ourselves in the shade of a 
great cave. The keeper of the hut brought 
us apples. We ate, and smoked, and crossed 
the bridge, and went on down the valley till we 
reached the Indus once more, where the sun 
shone pitilessly out of the throbbing hot grey 
sky, and the bare treeless hills reflected its 
burning heat. We crossed the frail wooden 
bridge, and, passing through the fort which 
guarded it, the Kashmiri officer in charge 
gave us salutation, and we passed out of the 
shade and entered Ladak proper. Groing on 
through the rock-strewn, sandy valley, watch- 
ing the wonderful play of colours on the rocks 
around, we reached the valley of Khalsi, and, 
under the deep shadows of a great tree, the 
natives brought us baskets of ripe red apples 
and apricots, and we drank of the cool stream 
and were satisfied. Then once more on over 
the rock-strewn slopes, passing many manis, 
and also caravaDs bearing the merchandise of 
northern lands to the rich cities of far Southern 
India. On reaching Nurla we found a good 
Serad, with very fair rooms and windows of 
fretted woodwork. We had charpois to sleep 
on, so we rested comfortably. 



SCAEDU TO LBH. 261 

This day's travel and its interest were 
almost swallowed up in the terrible agony of 
internal pain I suffered, but I remember the 
beautiful sea-green colour of the river, now 
still as a lake, and now flaked with white as 
it rushed over the shallows, and then the 
monotonous, rolling, rusty plains. I was 
alone with Karbir and the owner of the pon3^ 
Nearly every hundred yards I had to get off 
and lie down with pain, and then mounted 
again, held upon the pony by my companions. 
Reaching a fairly easy rolling upland of desert, 
I made myself walk for relief, while I sent 
Karbir on to ask Conway to stop at the first 
possible camping-ground, as I was unable to 
go on. The hours were, and are, a painful 
dream, but I remember rain-laden, wind- 
driven clouds, whose rags mottled the distant 
sheet of grey misty sky that leant on the 
white ridge of mountains beyond Leh. Then 
was the welcome sight of trees and villages, 
and Karbir coming to tell me that the march 
had stopped, thanks to Conway, who had 
galloped on and caught up the baggage. So 
I was able to rest and get some chlorodyne, 
which eased me almost immediately. 

The morning found me much better, and 
Conway determined to reach Leh that day. 



262 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

After leaving Bazgo, and passing numerous 
cJiortens, we passed out into the sandy 
desolation we now knew so well, and leading 
the way with a good pony and whoop tally-ho, 
I broke into a gallop with Conway, while 
Harkbir clattered after. Going rapidly was a 
grand sensation, the wind swirling round 
one's face in cool breezes as we greeted each 
man we met with his native jooley, or how 




d'ye do. Stopping at the Serai of Fiang, 
where two gaily-dressed women were resting, 
I dared Zurbriggen to speak to them, but he 
would not, though their gay glances were 
quite invitation enough ; they were evidently 
a Kashmiri beauty and her attendant. Throw- 
ing their silk-breeched legs over their ponies' 
backs, they started off in the opposite direction. 
We had a fine canter here over a beautiful 
piece of turf, but once over it the desert 



SCAEDU TO LEH. 263 

began again, and suddenly turning to a gap 
through crumbling sand-mounds, the broad, 
wide, bleak, treeless plain of Leh, spread out 
before us, with a straight dusty white track 
leading to the terraced houses which sparkled 
in a green setting, a mere speck in the blank 
plain. Natives with ponies and donkeys, 
laden with grass, were coming and going ; but 
all made way for us as we cantered in clouds 






_^„, J 4 a*' 'S'^ ?--_-<'^ \\ 

of dust towards the town. My animal gave 
up as we entered, and walking slowly through 
the streets to the bazaar, we saw big horses 
whose bodies were bidden under bales of cloth, 
on the top of which the rider sat, his legs at 
right angles to his body on either side; 
Passing through the dirty painted gateway, 
we were iu the broad avenue of the bazaar, 
where crowds of natives of all nationalities 
were assembled, and great piles of goods before 



264 AN ABTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the windowless shops and stalls told of a busy 
mart. We went through the bazaar and out at 
the other end, and entering the narrow, dirty, 
busy streets, reached at last the travellers' 
hangla. We called on Captain Cubitt, the 
Joint Commissioner, and on the missionaries, 
Dr. and Mrs. Weber and Dr. and Mrs. Jones, 
and felt we had reached comparative civilisa- 
tion again. 



■L^ 'Hill Kw^'^'-^ir-.i^ vcSr/v ^- ^Wi I 

^r&^ mm ! 




CHAPTEK XII. 



LEH TO SRINAGAE. 



ALMOST all the journey to Leh from Scardu, 
from the 13th of September to the 26th, I 
had been far from well, and after my arrival at 
Leh felt as if I should be completely laid up. 
Dr. Jones, in charge of the mission hospital, 
kindly took medical charge of me, and when 
we left on the 1st of October I was almost 
in good health again. But my illness un- 
fortunately deprived me of the opportunity of 
visiting the strange monastery of Hemis, 
where Lamas revel in fantastic mystery plays, 
with strange uncanny dances of devils, and 
hideous masques, and strange chanting and 
music. Conway and Zurbriggen went there, 
and I was left alone and sad, and yet I was 



265 



266 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

not idle all the time ; the gay, busy bazaar, 
alive with traders frora beyond the Kara- 
korams, was near me, and the strangely 
clothed travellers from across the mountains, 
sat amongst their wares, telling and hearing 
tales of what had happened in their world 
during the months that they were journeying. 
And I walked among them feeling a stranger 
in a strange wild land. Some of them hearing 
I should like to buy something, came to the 
green Bagh of the hangla, where I lay in the 
sunshine, and brought furs of strange beasts, 
and carpets of barbaric design, for my inspec- 
tion. The servant who was engaged to attend 
to me during my illness was a Kashmiri, and 
having learned a little of their language, he 
translated it into Hindustani. I suppose 
between them I was cheated out of something, 
though the prices, compared with those one 
pays at home, were ridiculous. I wandered 
among them during the days I was able to be 
out, and sketched the strauge costumed 
figures, and entered their camps, where they 
gathered together and lived and slept, before 
they started down to the sunny plains of 
India. I could have stayed amongst them 
for years, and longed to be able to speak their 
language, and to hear the stories they could 



LEH TO SEINAGAE. 267 

tell of the wild life of their travels, and of the 
strange countries they had passed through. 
The fates that guide men's lives willed that I 
should not know now, but perhaps some day 
I may visit Central Asia. 

Conway arrived from his journey to Hemis, 
and told me what I had missed, and I could 
only groan in disappointment, and ask him 
when we would start for Srinagar. As he 
had compared his barometers with the Leh 
ones, finding them correct, there was nothing 
more to do. 

We left Leh on the 1st of October for 
Kashmir. The first part of the way was that 
by which we had come up from the bridge 
over the Dras, near Hardas ; the remainder 
was through a new country to us. My pony 
was about the worst I had ever had, and the 
Gurkhas, who were provided with one between 
them, riding day about, exchanged with me. 

When we started we passed through the 
bazaar, which was now quieter from the 
number of traders who had departed south- 
wards, and entered on the wide grey plain of 
dust, looking like a healed scab, from a burn 
on the earth's dry skin. But above, a beautiful 
bright blue sky, flaked with feathers and balls 
of clouds of purest white, was like a silken 



268 AN ARTIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

canopy spread out above us as we cantered 
over the old road. My companions were far 
on in front. Karbir and I enjoyed ourselves 
greeting and chaffing the numerous traders 
whose caravans we caught up and passed on 
the road. We rode right through to Bazgo, 
where I found my party encamped in the 
enclosure of the Serai. I went up on the 
flat roof and made a sketch looking across the 















valley to the dark hills, on the other side, 
inlaid with silver veins of snow on their top- 
most slopes. 

Next day we had the dreary upland of sand 
I had so painfully toiled over on our march 
up. I had picked the worst pony again. It 
was fun, when the ponies were brought for 
us each morning, to see the pretended care- 
lessness with which we made for an animal 



LEH TO SEINAGAE. 269 

we fancied, and our quickened steps when we 
saw some one else making for it, and the 
careless way we would say, " I'm afraid I've 
made a bad selection this morning." We 
always chose according to the state of the 
saddles, but I had got a bad one once more, 
and again exchanged with a Gurkha, this time 
Harkbir, and got to Saspool, where we 
examined the interior of the temple. The 
Lama in charge was very attentive, if 
we could have understood what he was 
jabbering about. We entered through a dusty 
courtyard, with roofed, open sheds that looked 
like stalls for cattle or ponies, and went 
through a door to an open hall decorated with 
designs of curious figures and florid ornament 
newly painted in the brightest of primary 
colours and vivid green. Going through 
another door we stepped into the rich dark 
gloom of the temple, a square chamber lit 
from a square aperture above the centre, the 
light striking down on a dish of beautiful 
ripe apples. In an inner room were three 
colossal and ugly figures, dressed in gaudy 
attire. The walls in the outer or main temple 
were painted with the same hideous designs 
as the outer hall, but looked rich and artistic 
in the heavy shadow cast by the dark ceiling. 



270 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

I made a pencil note or two of the temple, 
and we went along the well-made road by the 
turquoise waters of the Indus to the fine open 
valley of Nurla, at whose little Serai we 
rested once more. 

A bright sun greeted us next morning, and 
having good horses we made rapid progress 
through the dreary waste, and crossed the 
bridge over the Indus. Waving greetings to 
the guard, we passed on and stopped at the 
Dak house at noon, before commencing the 
climb of the steep zig-zags to the open valley 
of Lama-yuru. The harvest was now over, 
leaving the fields one uniform colour of grey 
earth, relieved only by the patch of trees 
around the curiously piled town, with its walls, 
coloured white and red, against the grey 
sky. I made another sketch, but a snowstorm 
came driving the dust about me and spoiled 
it, and I returned to the tent for shelter. 
Conway having gone up to the quaintly 
poised temple on the top of the earth mounds, 
I followed him, being anxious also to see what 
was inside, and to find out how they managed 
to support the buildings on such foundations. 
The way up was through very steep alleys and 
dimly lighted passages ; the floors were built 
on beams resting on pyramids of conglomerate. 



272 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

I reached the dark temple and found 
Conway busy photographing with light from 
burning magnesium wire, and a stranger 
scene could hardly be imagined. The groups 
of Lamas in their dirty, dark red blankets ; 
and hundreds of hideous little idols dressed 
in the most tawdry rags, were suddenly 
lighted with a most intense brilliance 
which cut out the dark faces in solid 
black and white, their eyes agape at the 
unusual fire. While the light lasted we could 
see the beautifully toned Kakemonos, most 
lovely bits of colour, hanging from beams all 
over the place. The whole scene was a 
perfect picture, and I was glad that I had 
come. 

We returned to the tents and, in the dark 
of night, a Lama came into Conway's tent, 
and closing it after him in the most secret 
manner, brought forth from under his shawl 
a manuscript from the temple library, beauti- 
fully written on long blue strips in white and 
gold letters. After some bargaining Conway 
became the purchaser, and told him to go for 
more. This he did, and with many entreaties 
not to let the manuscripts be seen, he slunk 
away richer by many rupees. 

Conway sent an order to Karbu to have 



LEH TO SEINAGAR. 273 

ponies ready to take us on further, as he 
determined to do two marches and reach 
Shargol in the one day. We were up at six 
o'clock next morning. It was very cold, and 
I felt miserable and unwell. A bitter wind 
was blowing, and all the little streams were 
frozen over, but we made good way to the 
top of the Futu La. It was so exposed on 







the top that we made down the other side as 
quickly as possible. 

Conway determined to remain behind and 
drive the baggage ponies, and I, not feeling 
well enough for that irritable job, went on 
ahead and caught up Zurbriggen near Karbu. 
We had entered the open valley, and, after 
a good canter, I was a little ahead and near 
a caravan on its way down, when I heard the 
German language exploding through the air 

19 



274 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

with a guttural crash of which there was no 
mistaking the meaning. I looked round and 
saw Zurbriggen sitting on the ground in front 
of his pony, who gazed down on his fiery face 
in the most placid manner. I asked him if 
he was hurt, but he said no, and he didn't 
understand how it happened. The horse was 
walking along most easily, but happened to 
stop to consider for a minute, and as Zur- 
briggen had his hands in his pockets, and 
was not thinking about the animal at all, he 
went over its head. He mounted again and 
had just started, when I heard more German 
of an obviously immoral character. This time 
Zurbriggen was sitting under his horse ; his 
stirrup had broken, and he was a very angry 
man indeed. The merchants were enjoying a 
good grin, and I was nearly choked keeping 
my laughter in, for he looked too angry to 
irritate any more. 

We reached Karbu at eleven o'clock, and 
found the lambadhar had not received the 
letter ordering the ponies, so I hurried him 
off to get them at once. Conway and the 
baggage arrived an hour later. 

A bitter cold and strong wind met us as we 
started, but we were sheltered in the valley 
leading up to the Namika La. On reaching 



LEII TO SEINAGAE. 275 

the top the wind was a fierce, driving, icy blast, 
and was no better a great part of the way down. 
We had fairly good horses as long as one had 
a useful whip, but mine was only a piece of a 
branch I had broken off a tree at Karbu, and 
while trying to keep up with Conway and 
Zarbriggen, it smashed to pieces. My lazy 
brute immediately dropped to a baggage walk, 
and as nothing would make him move, my 
friends were soon lost to sight. I suddenly 
thought of the hairy Yarkandi cap with wide 
flappers, that I wore, and one wave of it 
before his eyes set the beast off as if the 
devil was after him. 

I reached a village, and the broad road I 
was on gradually narrowed, till it was about 
a foot broad and on the top of a walled bank, 
about twenty feet high on one side with a 
deep pond on the other. I urged on the 
animal, thinking the road might widen again ; 
but it only got worse and worse. At last there 
was no turning back, and the animal would 
go no further. I was under the walls of some 
village, and my exciting movements and wild 
garb must have frightened the life out of the 
inhabitants, for I saw one and all, old and 
young, carrying away what they could, and 
making for the hills for all they knew. The 



^76 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

fear and the hurry of every one to put as great 
a distance as they could between us, rather 
puzzled me for a moment ; hut when I saw 
four men and a woman, probably husbands 
and wife, leave their threshing like a lot of 
children, I roared with laughter, and shouted 
to them to come back, which only made them 
run the faster. However, the woman, curious 
to hear what I was saying, or desirous to have 
a final look at me, stopped, and seeing me 




laughing, broke into laughter herself, and 
calling back one of the flying husbands, sent 
him to me. The actions of the poor fool 
trying to keep away from me, and yet do his 
wife's bidding at the same time, were most 
amusing. 

I had only two words, Shargol, rusta, or 
road ; at which he pointed into infinite space. 
Eventually I got him to take my bridle, and 
catching hold of a branch of a tree that 
overhung the wall on which my horse was 



LEH TO SRINAGAE. 277 

standing, I swuug to the ground and, waving 
an adieu to the Ladaki lady, followed my 
guide, who led the horse along the wall to 
a low place and made him jump down. 

I reached Shargol very late, but our baggage 
was two hours later. A very swell-looking 
Yarkandi merchant, whose caravan filled the 
Serai, gave us tea in tiny cups, sweetened 
with a lump of sugar-candy as big as my fist, 
while we waited for our dinner. 

I had a good pony next day, but an awful 
shyer, and the unfortunate part of it was that 
it would shy in the most awkward places. 
Once, when descending the narrow valley on 
the road cut in the side of the hill high above 
the river bed, the pony watched his shadow 
till at some turning in the road it dropped 
over the side and went away down. When it 
came climbing up out of sight, and jumped 
over the edge, as it were like a Jack-in-the- 
box, right under his nose, with a wild leap 
he scrambled up the almost perpendicular hill 
at his side. This was very awkward, especially 
as when I got him turned to come down 
again the loose rubble gave way. How he 
kept his feet was as great a marvel as his 
landing on the road without going over the 
hliacl. 



278 AN iVETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

Leaving this narrow gorge we entered the 
Wakkha valley, and rested beside the little 
bridge which spans the stream, and waited 
for the baggage. 

After lunch we had a grand canter down 
the sandy road of the valley, and mounted 
the broad plateau about Kargil. Descending 
to its fertile valley, we camped in our old 
place. The Serai was alive with the animals 







./.-rftlvm 









and men of our Yarkandi friend of Shargol ; 
in the evening, we had his rugs opened 
for our inspection. I selected a large white 
Khotan, one painted with a very barbaric 
pattern in primary colours ; and Conway 
purchased many. They were all made into 
a great bale which was not opened, I believe, 
till it reached London. 

Conway sent a telegram to Jack Eoudebush 



LEH TO SKINAGAE. 279 

to meet us at Sonamerg, and we felt we were 
Hearing home. It was a beautiful moonlight 
night, and the deep misty shadows of the 
valley, with the dark mysterious mountains 
above it, and the still darker poplars against 
it all, made a fitting close to our journey 
through this gloomy land. 

We were now to enter on the last stage of 
our journey to Srinagar, down the Dras valley 
to the Sind valley and the vale of Kashmir. 

I secured a splendid pony next morning, 
whose greatest ambition was to show how fast 
he could go uphill ; there was no holding 
him, he had a mouth that pulling made 
as much impression on as it would on a 
runaway engine. It was fun to see the road 
clear ; the merchants dropped off their horses, 
and the coolies took to the hills, while the 
animal seemed to laugh at the excitement he 
made, and to enjoy showing me how near he 
could skirt the edge of a crumbling precipice. 
A very high parri nearly pumped him, and I 
was glad to dismount and tie him up and wait 
for the others, who did not turn up for over 
two hours. After lunch I kept behind the 
baggage, and as it was impossible for my 
energetic friend to get past his slow-going 
companions, I had time and comfort to enjoy 



280 



AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 



the beautiful scenery we were passing through, 
and it certainly was startlingly beautiful. 
The steep hill-sides of the deep valley were 
the colour of old gold. The Dras river flowed 
and tumbled along its bed like a great ribbon 
of deep turquoise, varying in tint from pale 
cobalt green to deep rich purple, with all the 
symphonies between, while the banks were 
bordered with shrubs, which varied from the 
brightest gold to fiery crimson, beside dark 
green rocks. 

Slowly wending our way 
through such scenery and 
drinking in its beauty, we 
reached the bridge we had 
crossed from Hardas on our 
way up. We did not cross 
it now, but kept along the 
bank, and shortly after 
reached the 8erai and wooded Bagh of 
Tashgom. 

In the early morning it was very cold, and 
we stood and shivered till the baggage was 
loaded up. I stayed behind to help to drive 
the loaded animals along. A short distance 
after we left Tashgom the valley opened into 
a broad plain, with many villages ; the fields 
were bare, the crops having been already 




LEH TO SEINAGAE. 281 

gathered in for the winter. Here and there 
a few villagers could he seen winnowing the 
grain in the hreeze. The valley narrowed 
to a deep gorge with great rock ravines down 
which rushed the green tumhling water. 

We stojDped at Dras for an hour, and 
Colonel Le Messurier, who was encamped 
there, photographed us. We continued our 
journey, passing the whitewashed fort, caught 
up our luggage, and, giving the men instruc- 
tions to hurry along, we cantered over the 
river valley through the golden shrub to the 
bleak Serai of Muitan, in full view of snow- 
covered peaks once more. 

One of the fathers of the Catholic Mission 
at Leh, on his way up from Srinagar, arrived 
shortly after and had dinner with us, and a 
pleasant chat and smoke. 

When the cold grey morning crept in from 
over the surrounding hills the weary work 
of trying to get the baggage animals to go at 
anything more than a snail's pace commenced 
once more. We plunged our hands deep in 
our coat pockets, and I tied my fur-lined cap 
about my ears for a little warmth, till the sun 
rose over the mountains and shed its warm 
and welcome rays upon us. 

The road to the top of the Zoji La is along 



282 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

an easy grass incline, so easy that we did not 

know we were on the top of the pass, till we 

noticed the flow of some streams from hidden 

glaciers ahove the road. But down to the 

Sind valley, from the top of the pass, is steep 

enough. We crossed the ravine by a bridge 

of old avalanche snow, and commenced the 

steep descent by zig-zags to the beautifully 

wooded valley in all the glory of its golden 

autumn tints : it was so steep that I preferred 

tS?i walking- to riding down. I arrived 

""^m^ fii'st at the hut at Baltal and found 

f ;' I i| a sahib preparing for lunch. He 

^^J^^ was on his way to Scardu to 

'';^^^|\^ shoot, and his sliiliari was a brother 

h \ ■■ %\oi Jack's slhihari. He told us 

// "^vf about everybody, what they had 

done, what they were doing, and what 

they were going to do. We also had lunch 

here, and as I expected Jack to be at 

Sonamerg to meet us, I determined to ride 

there at once. Leaving my companions to 

come on in their leisurely fashion, I made 

things hum through the Sind valley, but 

found no Jack when I arrived, so sat down on 

the banks of the river and felt sad and hungry 

for many an hour. My poor old pony had 

come well, so I sent a post-office clerk for 



LEH TO SEINAGAE. 283 

some fodder and asked for letters. Curiously 
enough there was a telegram for Bruce 
which had been there a long time, but as 
telegrams were flying all over the country 
calling in for the Black Mountain Expedition 
the officers on leave, I was not surprised. 

So anxious was I to see my friend, that I 
determined to do the remaining five marches 
next day, changing ponies wherever I could 
get them. Zurbriggen agreed to accompany 
me, and turning in early for what sleep we 
could get in the little time before us, we 
prepared for the morrow. 

At four o'clock, after a light breakfast, we 
stole quietly to the stalls where the horses 
were tied. I selected a couple, and, carefully 
feeling that all was in order after they were 
saddled, Zurbriggen and I mounted. The 
men wrapped in their thick blankets looked 
like assistants in some dread conspiracy, as 
we silently started off over the moonlit grass. 
Crossing the wooden bridge that spans the 
Sind river, we quickly trotted over the grass 
slopes to the dip into the dark wooded glen. 

The gloomy shadows frightened the ani- 
mals, and it was with difficulty they could be 
got to move. Black darkness from the thick 
pine trees enveloped us, and we were glad to 



284 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

reach the bridge re-crossing the Sind ; the 
clear road cut along its bank was grey white 
like a river. We were silent, and felt fearfully 
cold and uncomfortable, the dense wooded 
slopes rising high above us on either hand, 
and the deep dark gorge down which the river 
tumbled with a ghostly noise, seemed un- 
canny and full of things that crept and hissed, 
until the dawn began to break and lit up the 
scene with a cold grey light. As I reached a 
corner my pony broke into a canter, and I 
commenced my long ride to Srinagar and 
Jack. Eough, loose stones covered the road ; 
they shot out from the pony's shoeless hoofs 
like hail. As we dashed round a bend a great 
hole in the newly-mended road frightened the 
beast, and he leapt aside, nearly crushing my 
leg against the bank. I rode on past an en- 
campment of native navvies, and up through 
the trees, rattling through a stony, tortuous 
wood, down again to the bank of the river, and 
as I went, the rushing air was divine nectar. 
I passed Gund at eight, where some sahibs' 
tents were pitched. The ropes, which were 
stretched across the road in the most thought- 
less manner, nearly tripped the pony. I 
heard afterwards they were memsahibs. 
Allowing my pony to walk, I reached a 



LBH TO SEINAGAB. 285 

level, shrub-covered valley, and Ziirbriggen 
caught me up. We then cantered on quickly, 
chatting of the joys that awaited us in Srin- 
agar that evening. 

We reached Khasgan at eleven o'clock, and 
by the time we had aroused every mongrel in 
the country to yelping and barking by our 
shouts for the lambadhar, a boy went for him. 
Demanding ponies to be brought out at once, 
he informed me that there were none within 
two hours of the village, that they were on 
the hills grazing — a palpable lie. I told him 
to have two good ponies brought to us within 
ten minutes, or he would hear of it, saying 
that I had a Barra i^arioana from the Maraha- 
jah's Durbar, which fortunately, for him, he 
did not ask to see. We certainly looked two 
very disreputable ruffians compared with the 
gay crowd he was used to in the summer 
invasion, as this valley was one of the summer 
resorts of the English. 

Meanwhile Zurbriggen, in the shade of a 
big chinar tree, was lighting the spirit lamp 
of a self-cooking tin he had brought in his 
pocket, to the amusement of a crowd of natives 
who had gathered. We shared it together, 
and in less than the ten minutes allowed a 
strong pony without saddle or bridle was 



286 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

driven up, and the lambadhar explained it 
was his own, and that there was not another 
to be had. Giving him some strong advice 
about getting others at once, two more were 
mysteriously produced. He brought some 
old pack saddles and a very gaudy polo saddle 
of his own, which Zurbriggen appropriated 
immediately. I had suspicions about that 
saddle, it was too grand. I picked out the 
strongest pack saddle and made a good seat 
with blankets which they brought me, and, 
strapping all on, manufactured stirrups out 
of rope. Thus provided, we started with a 
boy runner to bring the animals back. 

Passing through a wooded lane, where I left 
Zurbriggen trying to keep his 
gaudy seat together, for it had 
parted on the first canter, I 
*^^5 , •^^ti" ^ entered the open valley. My 
horse was a good one, and went 
splendidly. Eounding a 
"^ ^ corner sharply, a long caravan 

of ponies returning from India occupied the 
road, and I was in among them before I 
knew : my knee came in contact with the 
load of one of them as it rushed past me 
to save itself from going down the liliad, 
and the drivers were up and down the 




LEH TO SEINAGAE. 287 

hills, out of the way m no time. Getting 
through this and flying on I entered a lane 
blocked with sheep, and so jammed together 
that the herd had to lift some of them up to 
make a passage for me. But soon I was on 
the level, broad, sandy road, with the vale of 
Kashmir before me in hot, misty haze, looking 
as if there might be a straight horizon line if 
it were not so indistinct. This was a thing I 
had not seen since I left the plains of India. 
The glad, bounding freedom of being on flat 
ground of any extent was magnificent, and 
my pony seemed to enjoy it as much as I. 

I met a nobleman of some sort riding with 
a large retinue, accompanied by a camel with 
a covered doolie on top, probably containing 
some favourite wife. The men dismounted 
and salaamed as I rushed by them. But 
away on the distant sandy road, in immacu- 
late white, a sahib ambled leisurely along 
with helmet as big as an umbrella. The get- 
up and the style proclaimed in a loud voice 
that it was Jack, and soon we were shaking 
hands. He remarked that he felt more like 
getting out of the way and turning back than 
advancing to meet me, such a sight I looked. 
It had never struck me, till I was trotting 
beside this white rose of purity, that my pony 
had not been groomed since it came into the 



288 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

world, and what with the old rags of blankets 
forming my saddle, my rope stirrups, my 
breeches, which were mere ribbons held at 
the waist and knee, the hairy Yarkandi cap 
flapping about my ears, and my heavy climb- 
ing coat, and myself unshaven and unwashed, 
I certainly looked a sight in the bright sun- 
shine of the Garden of the World. 

At Gungurbal we sat under the shade of the 
trees and waited for Zurbriggen. Jack's syce^ 
who followed him, had a parcel of seed cake 
and biscuits, so I ate and was satisfied for a 
while, and drank deep draughts of the running 
brook. I had been riding thirteen hours. 

Zurbriggen reached us an hour later, and 
the air vibrated with German greetings. Jack 
said it was no distance to the boat on the Dal 
Lake at the Nasim Bagh, so we did not 
trouble about changing horses, and cantered 
easily across country to the calm repose of 
the boats. There champagne and other un- 
heard-of luxuries were in abundance, and I 
had a bath and got into a suit of Jack's, and 
felt a civiUsed being once more. 

The day had been a little too much for me, 
so I turned into bed, there joining in the 
revels of Zurbriggen and Jack, and we made 
a glorious night of it. 

Conway joined us two days after. 



CHAPTEE XIII. 



SRINAGAK. 



AFTER Conway's arrival at the Nasim 
Bagli the boats were got under way, and 
with the gliding, soft motion, over tlie cahn 
still waters our last six months seemed to 
pass away like the shadow of a dream. 
When we reached Srinagar we were refused 
permission to use one of the houses in the 
Munshi Bagh, and had to camp in the Chinar 
Bagh, or the bachelors' camping-ground, and 
do all our packing and rearranging of the 
collections for England in the open. 

The place had such a fascination for me 
that I settled with Conway to stop in Srin- 
agar to sketch, while he went down to India 
and had necessary interviews with the autho- 
rities over the results of the expedition. And 
this rest and pleasure time for me was not 
without interest and excitement. 

While we were in the mountains the whole 

20 289 



290 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

town had been devastated by cholera, which 
its state of sanitation richly deserved. But 
even in relation, the reports of what occurred 
were very horrible. The plague struck down 
the people in thousands, and vast piles of 
corpses were burnt in the open places. By 
night, boats were for ever journeying with 
their dead loads through the stricken city. 
For at last the inhabitants were dying at the 
rate of a thousand a day, and now neither fire 
nor any ordinary method could dispose of the 
unnumbered bodies. Those who were left 
were stricken with panic, and at last, re- 
gardless of any religious rites, they disposed 
of their own dead by throwing them into the 
river, which became a floating tomb, and 
carried disease and destruction as it flowed. 
For the bodies were stranded upon the rocks 
and shallows, and in parts of the Jhelam men 
had to break up barriers of them with poles, 
pushing them, like caught timbers, into the 
stream. 

Jack told me that he had sent a coolie, 
who had been with him all the journey, from 
Scardu for tobacco, and the man did not return. 
He found out later that the poor fellow had 
died on the second day of his arrival in the 
city. He himself had a little experience of 



SEINAGAE. 



291 



the cholera, for after his arrival by night at 
Bandipur, he was awaked in the early 
morning by an awful smell of burning flesh. 
When he looked out he saw one of the 
dreadful dead heaps blazing close by his tent. 
He was ill that night, but escaped after going 
through all the agonies of death. And after 
the cholera came lire. About a quarter of the 




town was burnt to the ground, as the ruined 
and blackened walls still standhig on the bank 
of the river testified. But all these horrors 
Avere past. The present was with us, and 
a time for rest. 

Before Conway lefb, we had an invitation 
from Samad Shah to a Kashmiri breakfast, 
which we accepted. 



292 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

On our arrival at the steps leading to our 
host's house we were received by the only 
representative left by the cholera of a family 
of four brothers. He led us to a pleasant 
little room overlooking the river. We were 
seated at an ordinary table with a white cloth. 
Our host did not sit down with us, but stood 
by and explained the various dishes as they 
were brought in ; they were certainly the 
most curious mixture of stuffs I have ever 
eaten. The first dish was something like 
porridge to look at, but very sweet, and 
nearly everythiug else was of the same 
flavour; patties, tarts, and cakes, made of 
unknown ingredients, followed each other in 
quick succession, and for drink we had the 
usual Kashmiri tea, sweetened and flavoured 
with herbs — not a bit like the tea we have in 
England. 

After breakfast we went down to his shop 
and inspected carpets and rugs, curtains and 
costumes. The annual tribute of shawls paid 
to the Queen by the Maharajah of Kashmir 
was spread out ready for packing, and we 
examined their beautiful work, while the 
merchant explained to us the labour re- 
quired to produce it. 

We purchased carpets, rugs, and curtains 



SEINAGAE. 



293 



till our money would go no further, and bid 
farewell to our sleek but very business-like 

host. 






" s^ 




^.^,] ^^4 





There is always a great day in the Chinar 
Baf^h after the harvest, when the Maharajah 



294 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

has received his sliare of the produce, which 
I believe is two-thirds of the crops, he 
supplying the seed for the next sowing, for 
he gives a free distribution of cooked rice to 
the people. The greater merchants are enter- 
tained apart, in enclosures built for the occa- 
sion. For the poor, portions of rice are 
placed in little earthen dishes, and hundreds 
of these are spread in rows on the grass, while 
a great crowd surges and presses around till 
the word is given, when they simply fall on 
top of the food, crushing it into the ground 
and smashing the dishes. I was right in the 
middle of them and saw one man spread him- 
self over as many as he could cover, gathering 
others with the sweep of his arms, and eating 
what he could reach in front of his face. It 
seemed to me a great waste of food at the 
time, but I don't suppose a grain was lost, for 
I saw the natives sweeping and gathering in 
their shawls any remains they could pick up, 
as long as the light remained. 

Our tents were pleasantly situated under 
the great spreading cbinars, beside the narrow 
canal, which was always gay with many boats 
passing up and down. Our own boats moored 
in front of the camp, with the wives and 
children of the boatmen constantly pound- 



SRINAGAE. 



295 



ing grain, made a picturesque foreground. 
Merchants, too, were always arriving and 
departing with boats loaded with the wares 
which they had brought for our inspection. 
Almost every day there was a display of 
some sort spread out over the grass in front 
of our tents. One day the ground was 




strewn with silver ware, and another day 
with copper, then came the skin merchant 
and the papier mache worker, and often 
the whole lot together. They didn't mind 
if we would not buy, " only just look at 
the beautiful wor-rik, Sahib," and if we told 
them we were too busy to look, " Oh ! I don't 
mind. Sahib ; I wait here all day ; only Sahib 



296 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

see my wor-rik. You not look at any 
other." 

One day one of them came to me with a 
ring. 

" Hazor ! " (your Highness). 

" Well, what do you want ? " 

" I want to show Sahib this beautiful ring." 

" I don't want any ring : Jao ! " (go). 

"But, Sahib, I sell this ring cheap, very 
cheap." 

" Jao ! Jeldi ! (go quickly !) I tell you I 
don't want a ring, I have no time to look." 

" I wait, Hazor. If Sahib only see my ring 
you buy." 

" Oh, wait and be hanged to you, but get 
away from this." 

And off he went about a hundred yards and 
sat down and looked into space. About two 
hours later he returned, and the same palaver 
went on, but he wouldn't go till I attempted 
to kick him. This went on all day. At last 
I could stand it no longer, so I said — 

" Show me the ring ! " and his face lighted 
up till I felt like kicking him again. " Well, 
what do you want for it ? " 

" Oh, Hazor, it is a beautiful ring. I make 
it myself." 

" Here, you old scoundrel, this is not a 
stone, it's a bit of glass." 



SEINAGAE. 297 

" Ah, Sahib, e-stone is good e-stone, gil-ass 
no, Sahib. I show yon how you know." 
And he went through some fakement of 
breathing on it. 

"Well, what do you want for it, you old 
swindler? " 

" Me not e-swindle. Sahib, I sell cheap." 

" Well, what do you want ? " 

" I let Sahib have it for fifty rupees." 

'' Here, take the ring, and you had better 
make tracks quick. Jao ! " 

"But, Sahib, what you give ? " 

"I wouldn't give you ten rupees for it. 
Now, get." 

"Oh but. Sahib, I could not do that. I 
not make anything." 

"Jao!" 

As he was going he shouted — 

" I let Sahib have it for forty-five rupees." 

He came back next day, and the same game 
went on. At the end of it he had come down 
to twenty rupees. 

On the third day he came to ten, but I said 
I did not want a ring. 

"Oh, but Sahib said he give ten rupees." 

The end of the matter was I gave him ten, 
and he went away smiling ; perhaps he had 
made two or three pice out of it. At any 
rate he had done business. 



298 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

But the whole thmg is a farce, for if one 
thinks he has paid too much he has only to 
go to the Baboo, who has a regular list of 
prices which the dealers must accept, and if 
the quality of the article is doubtful, the 
Baboo has it assayed, and the dealer is fined 
or imprisoned if it is not up to the standard. 

At last the day arrived when Conway and 
Zurbriggen took their departure. They were 
going first to Abbottabad, Zurbriggen having 
accepted an engagement to train Gurkhas 
as guides during the winter at Gilgit ; and 
Conway was going on to Simla. When he 
had finished with the authorities he would 
telegraph us to join him. However Fate 
arranged otherwise, and we did not see 
Conway again till we reached London. I 
heard later that Zurbriggen' s engagement 
fell through. 

I devoted my time now entirely to sketch- 
ing, from my boat, which I had taken down 
every day, the many subjects along the river. 
It was to me a time of great pleasure, for day 
by day the movement and light revealed some 
new beauty, and I lived in a seventh heaven 
that seemed full of music, divine and sweet. 

Every evening in camp, when the grey, 
soft haze over the Bagh was lit up with the 



SEINAGAR. 299 

golden glory of the setting sun, we sat with 
our companions, some of whom were officers 
coming down from Gilgit, and smoked and 
talked of what each had seen and done, of war 
and adventure, and of living a life that made 
me feel it was the life a man should live. As 
I thought of the dreary days in the busy 
bustle of Londou, and contrasted them with 
the glorious open life around, I felt that here 
was my abiding-place. But an irresistible 
craving for the troughs of Egypt which I had 
been used to, won the victory, and I despised 
myself as I yielded. 

But we had occasional periods of activity, 
for one night we were all sitting dreaming, 
and watching the lazy curls of smoke floating 
through the still air, when a red glow threw 
up the trees on the opposite side of the Bagh 
in black relief. Some one remarked : ''Is 
that the town on fire again ? " and a boatman 
said that it was only weeds burning. But 
just then some men on the opposite side 
began crying out that the temples were burn- 
ing. This brought us to life, and we hastily 
ordered the small boat to be got ready and the 
lanterns to be lighted, as no one is allowed to 
go about the town after dark without one. 
Our two friends and Jack and I got to the 



300 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

boat, and our man soon pushed it over. We 
started for the town, threadmg our way 
through dark streets, in some of which holes, 
ranging from a foot to six feet deep, and quite 
as wide, met us at every turn. We soon 
found the lamps unnecessary, the brilliancy 
of the fire, which had now attained gigantic 
proportions, was so intense. 

To reach the fire we had to crush 
through a crying, moaning mob of natives, 
and then run the gauntlet of the showers 
of household gods the inhabitants of the 
yet untouched houses were throwing into 
the street. For earthenware pots and all 
sorts of breakable articles were pitched out 
indiscriminately, only to be smashed to frag- 
ments on the stones below. We could see 
that an immense area of the town was in 
flames, with absolutely no means of putting 
it out. Standing where we were, warning 
cries reached us, and, hastily running back, 
we just escaped being buried in the debris 
of a house which fell right across the street, 
its attachments to another house having been 
burned tln-ough, causing it to fall bodily. As 
not a house in the town but depended on its 
fellow for support to keep it upright, things 
were getting a bit lively. 



SRINAGAR. 301 

Passing through the dark entries of a house 
iu which there was weeping and waihng fVoin 
unseen women, we entered the yard, and as 
cries reached us that the temple was in danger 
— we could see its silver minarets gleaming 
high ahove in the glow of the fire — we 
scrambled in its direction over the interven- 
ing walls, and reached the ghaut leading to 
the river from the temple steps. We were 
now close to the walls of a burning house, the 
ceiling being quite burned through, and falling 
in. We saw women rushing almost into the 
heart of the tire to rescue some articles, but 
the tiames became too fierce, and they turned 
back, just in time, as the last floor fell in. 
Some Hindu merchants, with their families, 
were sitting on the goods they had been able 
to rescue, making absolutely no attempt 
to assist ; naked natives were rushing in 
the wildest confusion up from the river, 
carrying jars of water, which they threw on 
the expiring flames of an entirely gutted 
house. Seeing a small hand-pump with a 
good quantity of hose, which the men had 
got tied up in knots, so that no water came 
through, though they pumped for all they 
knew, Jack and I rushed in and straight- 
ened it out, and then directed them to 



302 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

the best place to work to save the temple. 
As each man wanted to play it on his own 
house, and fought with the others to get 
the end of the hose for that purpose, Captain 
Duncan, one of our companions, endeavoured 
to ma.ke the men form a line down to the 
river, in order to pass the jars of water 
along it and keep the tank of the pump 
full. Meanwhile Jack and I had a ladder 
erected in the courtyard of the temple, to 
enable them to play on the surrounding 
houses, which were now burning fiercely. 
The fools could not understand that it was 
better to keep a continual stream of jars 
passing along, while they themselves stood 
still, but broke the line, each running for 
himself. 

All this time the flames hissed and roared, 
sending volumes of smoke and flames up into 
the still air, lighting up a very pandemonium, 
while most of the staring, crying, howling, 
white - robed natives looked on inactive. 
Tall, naked figures stood on high walls out- 
lined against the fiery smoke, and, with long 
poles, were directing and pushing in another 
direction the burning beams of a house which 
threatened to fall near the temple. The water 
ran down, as most of the jars got broken on 



SEINAGAE. 303 

the way in the harry of the carriers through 
the dark entries, and after showing them how 
and where to direct the hose when they got 
more, I returned to the ghaut steps. We 
calculated that there were about one hundred 
and fifty houses burning now, so again push- 
ing and crushiug through the crowded alleys, 
we saw some other Europeans on the roof of 
a house, and ascended to see the sight. 
Emerging on the fiat roof, we had a grand 
view of a vast sea of flame, puffing and boiling 
in clouds of fiery smoke, the flames licking up 
in great tongues every balk of timber like wax, 
while showers of fiery sparks swirled and 
spurted in the crash of falling walls. 

The troops had been got out to pull down 
houses, so as to cut off the fire from spreading 
any further, and every other Sepoy seemed to 
have brought a bugle, and blew it for all he 
was worth. We saw one whom we felt we 
could have shot for the row he was making. 
Some Sepoys close to us were unroofing a 
house, while the owner kept expostulating 
with them on the ground that his house was 
not on fire. He thought it a great hardship 
that it should be touched. He sat in the 
window and talked to them, drawing his head 
in every minute as part of the roof fell past 



304' AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

him. The house was on fire before they got 
all the woodwork off it, and we left for a 
further sight of the fire from the opposite side 
of the river, so I do not know if the old boy 
stuck to his house to the last. 

We saw a wonderful sight on reaching the 
bridge on the opposite bank of the river, for 
thousands upon thousands of inhabitants were 
ranged, row above row, on the banks, and all 
the balconies and roofs were crowded. The 
bright-coloured houses, lit up with fire, were 
a blazing sea of colour, against which the red 
faces and white robes of the natives made a 
mosaic of marvellous beauty. Above it the 
gilded minarets of the temples pierced the 
black curtain of the sky. We joined the 
crowd, and gazed in awe at the magnificent 
scene of destruction. 

Once more entering a boat, as the area 
of the fire, cut off from the surrounding houses 
by blasts of gunpowder, gradually burned itself 
out, we returned to the quiet of our camps, 
after this grand display of fireworks at the 
end of our adventures. 

The baggage, containing our collection 
made in Hunza Nagyr, had not reached 
Srinagar, through the overpowering quantity 
of supplies being carried up to provision Gilgit 



SEINAGAE. 305 

during the winter, and, as we heard from an 
officer who had just come down, that he had 
seen boxes addressed to Conway lying broken 
about the Burzil Pass, we decided to go to 
Bundipur, and, if need be, up the road to 
Gilgit again. At Bundipur we found a dif- 
ferent state of affairs from what we had met 
with on our first visit, for coohes and ponies 
and yaks were returning and departing with 
the grain and provision for the Gilgit garrison. 
An Enghsh sergeant in charge told us that 
Conway's boxes had just been sent on by road 
to Srinagar, so we returned to our boats. On 
the way back to the town I stopped on the 
bank of the Wulah lake to make a sketch of 
a grand thunderstorm over the Tragbal, and, 
unluckily, got a chill. 

On reaching Srinagar the next day — 
the 4th of November — while examining the 
boxes I was seized with the fever that 
laid me up, most of the time unconscious, 
till the 14th of December. I owe a debt 
of gratitude to Dr. Neve for his kind atten- 
tion through it all, and for all the kindness 
I received from every one. 

I believe, though I am not sure, that I 
suffered from typhoid. At any rate I had 
a very bad time, and was a perfect wreck and 

21 



306 AN AETIST IN THE HIMALAYAS. 

a mere skeleton. Jack nursed me through it, 
and when I was able to travel we went on 
to Bombay. On the 22nd of December we 
sailed for England. 

I do not know if, in the unseen course of 
events, I shall ever be in the north of India 
again. It is, perhaps, as unlikely as it seems 
to me infinitely desirable. For the year I 
spent on this expedition was the fullest in 
my life, the strangest, and the most wonder- 
ful. If I should see no more of that Orient, 
which was a revelation to me, both of humanity 
and of nature, I learnt much and made many 
friends and got to understand things which 
were once a mystery to me. For there I 
came closest into contact with real men and 
real fighters ; there I learnt what it is to 
engage in a hand-to-hand conflict with the 
mightiest forces of the universe, and there 
I saw what perseverance, foresight, and en- 
durance can hope to accomplish. 



THE END. 



UNWIN BB0THER3, 
CHILWOETH AND LONDON 



y 



